The Chosen Queen
by andreastevens
Summary: After the Battle of Winterfell, the world falls quiet. The survivors are left to pick up the pieces and brace themselves for the next Battle against Cersei. Daenerys and Jon support each other in the conquest as Daenerys works to take back the Throne. Meanwhile, Sansa fights to overcome her own battles. Plot and fluff. Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.
1. Picking up the Pieces

Notes: This is my first Game of Thrones fanfic, and I'm super excited to work with it but it's difficult! There are so many characters and plot-lines it can be overwhelming but I'm trying my best. First chapter is a little crummy, but I promise it gets better. One note, the only o.g. character (for now) is called Clara. She's Sansa's daughter (about one and a half years old), but more will be explained as you go on. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Picking up the Pieces

Silence fell upon Winterfell. Arya had driven her knife into the Night King, and the battle was over. Slowly the living began emerging from their hiding spots. Viserion sunk to the ground, and Jon stood up in relief when he realized they had been saved. In the crypts, the bodies of those "revived" crumpled into dust. Sansa looked to Tyrion, and removed her hand from her daughter's mouth. Clara took a deep breath and nuzzled her face into Sansa's neck, whimpering softly. Sansa rubbed small circles on her back to comfort her, and kissed the top of her head. They were safe.

Daenerys stood in the middle of the quad, breathing a sigh of relief until she turned just in time to catch Jorah as he fell. She lowered him to the ground slowly, and let out a cry of anguish as he choked up blood.

"No, Ser Jorah, it will be okay. There are maester's here. Surely Sam can save you again, I'll find him, you just need to…"

Tears rolled down her face as he tried to speak,

"Khalessi, it's okay," He murmured.

She held him as he slowly drifted to sleep, and cried sobs deeper than she thought possible when he closed his eyes for the last time. She stayed with him, resting her head on his chest, until Jon came over to her.

"Oh Dany, I'm so sorry. But you need to come inside, you're wounded, you need to be seen by a maester," he said, offering his hand to her.

Three of the Unsullied offered to carry Jorah to a respectable place until the funeral. She nodded slowly, walking alongside Jon and taking one more longing backwards glance at the man who had loved her more than anyone.

Inside, healthy soldiers were already moving the dead to piles outside and bringing in injured soldiers and citizens who needed care. There weren't many left.

"I want to help Jon, let me do something," Dany pleaded.

"Daenerys, you need help. Your face, it's bleeding."

"I'll be okay, these are our people, they need us," She said as she escaped his gentle grip and walked over to the dining hall where help was being set up.

She was grabbing bandages and clean water to set up stations, just as she had done in Meereen after freeing the slaves. Jon went on to help the others outside, knowing there was no way to talk her out of her plan. She wanted distraction, no: she needed it. She stayed to help for hours until she began to feel dizzy. She caught the edge of the table, and slowly slid to the floor. The last thing she saw before she passed out was Sam's worried face looking down at her.


	2. Angel Down

After everything had settled down, Jon washed himself off, put on his nightclothes, and sat on the edge of his bed. The daylight was already fading again, but this night would bring peace and quiet. He was surprised to find Daenerys still absent from their room, but he was afraid to go look for her, as it was still a secret that they shared a room. He figured she had found another place to rest for the night, but he decided to stay up just a little longer to wait. Jon was fighting to keep his eyes open when he heard a knock on the door. He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was Sansa who poked her head through the doorway.

"May I come in," she asked quietly.

"Sure, just wait one moment," he said, grabbing for a shirt to cover the scars on his chest.

She pushed in anyway and sat down in the chair by the wall.

"Oh please Jon, I don't mind your scars, they can't be any worse than mine."

He grimaced at her words, and looked into her eyes,

"Are you okay? I know I saw you a while ago but there was so much going on, I turned to come back to you but you were walking to your chambers with Clara. I didn't want to bother you if you were trying to get her to sleep. Wait, who's with Clara?"

"Don't worry Jon, we're fine. The dead came to life in the crypts, but we were able to hide from them behind father's statue. Clara's with Brienne right now; I told her I'd be back shortly. Is there any word on Bran or Theon?" She asked.

"No, Bran hasn't woken up yet, but he seems to be in good health. No word on Theon yet, but men are still making it back to the castle Sansa, and it will be days before we have everyone accounted for."

Sansa closed her eyes and nodded. Jon smiled apologetically, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I had one more question, concerning the Dragon Queen," She said, avoiding eye contact.

"Sansa, if you're here to tell me that you still don't trust her, I don't have anything else to say, I…"

"Jon, stop. It's quite the opposite, I wanted to…apologize. I heard what she did with the dragons, what she sacrificed, who she lost. I came to the dining hall where they set up help, and she was wrapping wounds and comforting our people. She held a screaming infant who'd lost his mother and lulled him to sleep until a wet nurse could come and find a place for him. She was incredible. I'd actually like to apologize to her, I've been rather cold."

The thought of Daenerys caring so much for the innocent at Winterfell made Jon's heart flutter ever so slightly, and filled him with a confidence that she was fit to rule.

"She respects you, Sansa. She knows what you've been through and she understands why you're cautious. I'm certain she would warm up to you, I wouldn't try tonight, after she lost Jorah, but soon."

"Maybe we will have a just ruler after all. And a woman at that," Sansa grinned.

Before Jon could reply, Sam rushed in. His face was ashen, as if he'd seen a ghost.

"My apologies Jon, but we need you now. It's the Queen."

Sansa sprang out of her chair and Jon followed quickly as he threw his furs over his shoulders. Together the three of them flew down the hall to Daenerys.

It wasn't a pretty sight. Daenerys was lying in bed in her nightgown, her hair astray. She was surrounded by her maidens and Winterfell's maesters as she shook and curled over the side of the bed in pain. Her eyes glanced at Jon for a moment in pure fear. Missandei held Daenerys' hair back and pat her forehead with a damp cloth as she threw up. Jon ran to take her other hand, which was warm to the touch.

"What is it, what's wrong with her?" Jon demanded.

"We're not sure, she feverish and ill, she passed out in the dining hall and ever since she woke up, she's been violently ill. It could be shock from the battle, or bleeding that we cannot find the source of. We've examined her everywhere, and she has substantial bruising, but nothing that would cause this fierce of a reaction. We're going to give her milk of the poppy to ease her pain for the night,"

"Don't do that," Sansa interjected, stepping in from the doorway.

She came over to the side of the bed, where Daenerys looked up at her with a slight anger, thinking that Sansa wanted to see her in pain. Sansa took Daenerys's hand, and gently ran her other over Dany's stomach.

"She's pregnant." Sansa noted rather nonchalantly.

There were gasps in the room, and everyone looked at Sansa with shock plastered on their faces.

"Yes, but not for long," Daenerys exhaled, "the witch that murdered my husband; she told me I could never bear another child. Rhaego was my first and last. I had a feeling that I might be pregnant, but I knew it would never be born alive. I think I'm losing it," She admitted sadly.

"Daenerys, would you really trust a witch? The morning I began throwing up I knew I was pregnant, and it seems to me like you've had the same realization. I had intense cramping, and vomiting, but Clara managed to survive. It's probably the trauma of the battle; you just need time to rest."

Daenerys looked at Sansa before she reeled over the bed again and threw up again. Sansa pressed her hands into Dany's shoulders, easing her tension, and helped her to sit up and lie herself back onto the pillows. While Missandei and Sansa comforted the Queen, the men moved to the other side of the room. They were clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and they felt embarrassed that they hadn't discovered what Sansa did in about one minute. Sansa parted Daenerys's legs slightly, and could see the small blood spot that collected on the sheets beneath her. Daenerys leaned forward to look and panic enveloped her face.

"I haven't bled since I've been at Dragonstone, but I told myself it was just nerves. Look at this blood, I must be miscarrying." She repeated.

"I don't think so," Sansa replied steadily, "I bled a little bit in the first couple of months, and everything was fine. You're cramping isn't terrible, is it?"

Daenerys shook her head slightly, "being in actual labor was far worse," she replied with a slight smile.

"I'm no maester, but the midwife that I had told me to stay in bed until after the cramping was completely gone, and then just do everything very carefully."

Daenerys nodded, and then she glanced over at Jon, who was still in the corner of the room.

"Jon, Jon, are you okay?" She asked hoarsely.

Jon couldn't move. For the few months that he had spent with Daenerys, she had begged him on several occasions to stop thinking about children, and he had accepted the fact that he would never become a father. He thought back to the first time he held Clara, nearly a year and a half ago when she was just a few days old. The joy that filled his heart when she cooed and twisted in his arms was unmatched by anything else. Sorting through the politics of this situation would be difficult, but that was all just background noise.

Once Daenerys seemed to relax a little bit, Sansa and Missandei moved from her bedside, and Jon took their place.

"Dany," he smiled, kissing her hand, "can you believe this?"

She smiled down at him and took a deep breath, taking his face in her hands.

"Don't get your hopes up quite yet Jon, you know that I've longed to be a mother for quite some time, but I'm bleeding quite a bit right now. I think and pray that Sansa is right, but I don't want to devastate you if the child doesn't survive."

Jon nodded, respecting her decision. He got chills when he heard "the child," a child that was already in existence and growing inside of Daenerys.

Even though she just wanted to sleep, she knew she had to figure out how to address that just happened. She looked up at those in the room and cleared her throat,

"Thank you all for helping me tonight, now that I know what's probably been causing my illness I do feel much better. But please, we must keep this a secret, if I am pregnant, I'm in a very fragile state, and there's no point in starting rumors for nothing," She said seriously.

"It will be the best kept secret at Winterfell, your Grace," Jon promised her.

Sam bit his lip and looked at the floor. He was going to have to tell Jon the truth about his parents.

After the pains stopped, the maesters and maidens started leaving the room. Missandei excused herself to her nearby room to hopefully get some rest. Before Sansa left, she went over to Daenerys's bedside. She kneeled before her.

"Your Grace, I would like to apologize for my demeanor during our last couple of meetings. I have been rather cold, but after what I saw you do today, the people that you saved, I sincerely thank you. I see now that you may be the most just ruler that these Kingdoms will ever have, and I will support you as we defeat Cersei and you take back the Iron Throne. You have my loyalty, as I believe that you will create the best world for my daughter."

Daenerys took Sansa's hands in hers,

"Thank you Lady Sansa, I would love to appoint you as an advisor if you wish. I could understand if you are too busy with your daughter, but your intelligence and wisdom is much needed on my council. We've been through much of the same, my Lady, and I think we could both be of great service to each other."

"I would be honored your Grace, so long as my daughter can accompany me if it's safe," Sansa replied.

"I would never put you or her in any danger. Welcome to the Council, Lady Sansa," Daenerys whispered.

Sansa excused herself after Jon assured her that he would look after Daenerys. As sick as she felt, Daenerys' heart hurt more than anything.

He shut the door behind Sansa, and looked sincerely into Daenerys' violet eyes.

"Jon, please, come lay with me, I need you," She said, her voice trembling.

Jon crawled into bed next to her and she put her head on his chest, trying to stop herself from crying. She wanted to be excited over the baby, but she didn't even know if it could survive inside of her. She couldn't imagine that Jorah would never meet her children or see her take back the Iron Throne, the thing they'd been working towards since they met so many years ago.

"It's okay Dany, you can cry. Let it out my darling, it will be okay."

She sobbed for what felt like hours into his shirt. He cried too, thinking of all the men he had ever lost to the Night King, and how quickly everything seemed to stop. He tried not to shake but Daenerys could feel his chest heave. They were broken, but they were together. Every time she thought it was over, a thought or memory of Jorah sent another sob shuddering through her. Jon stroked her hair and rocked her slightly as they finally fell asleep, their eyes red and their hearts shattered.

Notes: Thanks for reading! The next 10 chapters have already been written, so they'll all be up within a day or two. I'm in the process of writing the rest. Thanks for reading, leave a review if you liked it!


	3. Slipping Through My Fingers

(The same night)

Sansa opened her door quietly. Brienne was sitting on the floor with Clara, handing her blocks as she tried to stack them on the uneven carpet. As soon as she heard the door, Clara swung her head around and gave a toothless smile in delight as she saw her mother. Sansa smiled and squatted down to the floor, holding her arms out. Clara crawled over and climbed into her mother's embrace, and Sansa kissed her softly on the cheek. Brienne stood up and bowed to Sansa,

"My Lady, thank you for letting me spend time with her, she is truly a joy," She said, smiling at the baby in Sansa's arms.

"That is what everyone says," Sansa laughed.

"My Lady, you were gone for quite a while? Is everything okay?" Brienne asked as she turned to leave.

"Oh yes, everyone is okay. The Dragon Queen was ill, but everything is okay now. Thank you so much for staying with Clara, and go get some sleep. You deserve it."

"I'm glad she's okay. Goodnight my Lady," Brienne said as she left the room.

With her one free arm, Sansa skillfully put away her clothes and slipped her nightgown on. She blew out the majority of the candles and sat down in the rocking chair with Clara, whose eyelids were growing heavy as she tried to stay awake with her mother. Clara had a grip on the end of Sansa's braid and was running the hair, identical to hers, through her fingers. Sansa pulled down a side of her nightgown and led Clara's head to her breast. She suckled gently, and Sansa wrapped her arms around her baby, leaning down to nuzzle her face against her soft, downy wisps of hair. After just a few minutes, Clara had stopped suckling and fallen asleep. Sansa brought Clara closer to her chest and continued to rock her back and forth in the chair. Tears slipped down her cheek while she tried to convert this feeling to her permanent memory. The tiny breaths against her chest, the little fists bunching up the collar of her nightgown. They had survived the impossible twice, and now her daughter would get to live the life she deserved with a new ruler who promised to do them justice. Sansa longed to know where Theon was, but for now she felt content. She dozed off in the chair and remained there for the rest of the night, never losing her grip on Clara.

(Daenerys and Jon, the next morning)

They didn't wake until the end of the next night. Daenerys woke first, being hit by a pang of grief as she remembered what had happened just one day ago. The light from the dawn was peeking through the curtains, and she lifted her nightgown to find relief: the bleeding had stopped completely. She glanced at Jon, who was still sound asleep. She grinned as he slowly began to stir.

"What time is it?" He asked quietly, looking around the room.

"Sometime near dawn I believe. I can see the purple light of your beautiful Northern sunrises."

Jon smiled and Daenerys took his face in her hands, kissing him gently as he stroked her hair. She let her hands move slowly down to his shirt, but when she tried to pull it off, he stopped her.

"What is it, my love?" She asked nervously.

"I don't, I don't want to hurt the baby," He said, his voice getting quieter as he reached the end of the sentence.

She laughed gently and slowly sat up. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her, and she threw up into the pail over the side of the bed. Jon, who had learned from Missandei, held her hair back as she leaned over.

"I apologize, I'm probably not looking quite so queenly right now," she joked, looking over her shoulder.

"My Queen, you are more gorgeous than ever."

And he meant it. Even with her tired eyes, crazy hair, and bruised body, she was the most beautiful women he'd ever set his eyes on. Her skin shone in the candlelight, and he could just make out the soft curves of her cheeks and her lips. Her nightgown clung to her hips in a way that he could not describe the beauty of, and he had the urge to lift it off over her head. But she was tired, and pregnant, and he knew she needed time.

She rolled her eyes at his remark,

"We must plan a dinner at the great hall tonight, to discuss the battle, future plans, and the, the funerals," she choked out the last few words, already feeling guilty about the brief happiness she felt with Jon just a second ago.

"Yes," he said solemnly, "but you are on bedrest for now my Queen. Wait until Maester Sansa clears you," He teased as she gently hit his shoulder.

"Call her what you will, but she figured it out while the men stood in this room completely helpless. She's a smart one, your sister."

"Thank you for trusting her," Jon said sincerely, "It takes time to earn her confidence, but I swear to you Dany, she believes in you now, and she will do everything she can to help you."

"I saw the way she looked as she helped me yesterday. Her eyes were soft and sincere; I knew then that she realized who I truly am; someone that wants to help her and all of her people. I wasn't planning on asking her to be on the council, but I believe that it was the right choice, an olive branch if you will. She's a mother, Jon, and I know that she will do everything she can to protect her children, as I have."

Jon sighed in relief, knowing that peace had come to two of the most important people in his life. Now he just had to get through to Arya.

(The next evening)

Daenerys stood in her dressing room, looking at herself in the mirror, or more specifically the dress she was to wear to the dinner in the great hall tonight. She smoothed the dress down from her waist, feeling the soft warm stripes of fur that served as stitching between the purple velvet fabrics that she had picked out as soon as she arrived in Westeros. Her stomach was still nearly flat, and she was glad she could keep this to herself for some time. She smiled at Missandei, who had just finished the final braids in her hair.

"If we survive Cersei, please be at the birth with me," Daenerys asked Missandei.

"When we defeat Cersei, I will be there with you Daenerys," Missandei assured her.

"Missandei, I must admit something to you," she said quietly.

"What is it my Queen, surely it can't be so bad?" Missandei said, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm still utterly terrified about this baby. I've spent the last eight years thinking I'd never again bear a living child, and now all of the sudden I'm pregnant. What if it's true and the baby is stillborn? I can't remember much from Rhaego's delivery, but I remember the pain I felt afterwards. I can't lose another child. And we have to risk our lives fighting Cersei; I almost lost the baby during this battle, I feel like every move I make could break it."

"Your Grace, ask yourself, how much control do you really have over these things? You have taken care of yourself, you've stayed here in bed for nearly two days to help your child, and I know how hard it is for you to stay still for more than one moment. Believe in yourself, and your ability to bring this baby into the world safely. Nothing is ever certain, not my life, not your life, not anyone's. We can worry if something happens, but not before it."

Daenerys smiled up at Missandei, placing a hand in hers.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They opened the door to find Jon standing in the doorway. The blood had drained from his face, and it appeared as if he was shaking.

"Jon," Daenerys asked in a steady, slow voice, "what's the matter?"

"Bran has returned to consciousness. Theon was killed by the Night King shortly before Arya arrived. Our soldiers have just retrieved his body. He's gone."

Daenerys felt chills spread throughout her body; this was the man she could tell Sansa loved. She put her hand on Jon's shoulder as she asked the next question.

"Does Sansa know?"

"Not yet," he replied quietly, "I don't know when to tell her, she needs to be present and sound at the dinner, so that when you introduce her as a new adviser, there is no questioning to her abilities."

"Jon, the man she survived hell with has died. Don't you think she has the right to know sooner than later? I could tell her if you'd like, I'm in the same place she is now."

"Please Dany, wait until after the dinner. Trust me on this, she will need time to recover, and she should have just a few hours of joy before she's thrown back into the darkness."

Daenerys conceded, and made her way with Jon and Missandei to the dining room.


	4. Rise

"Good evening to the ladies and gentlemen of Winterfell and the North. This is our first proper meeting since before the war, and I want to offer my sincerest gratitude to the brave men and women who fought to protect their home and the world as we know it. It took tremendous courage and sacrifice, and for that we are all standing here today."

Cheers rang out across the hall. After watching Daenerys ride her dragon and play the crucial role that she did holding back the army of the dead from infiltrating Winterfell, the North had warmed to her. They watched her wield a sword against the white walkers, and they accepted her help when she cleaned wounds and comforted the injured on that night. They understood, through nothing more than her actions, that she would make a great queen.

"For those who have fallen, a funeral, as per tradition in the North, will begin tomorrow at dusk. I, and many others, have lost loved ones very close to our hearts."

She stopped a moment, thinking of Jorah.

"Tomorrow, our lifelong quest to keep them alive in our memory, to remember who they were and what they stood for, begins. I ask all who are able to join us."

The crowd bowed their heads for a moment.

"The other important news that I bring tonight is what comes next. As many of you know, I came to Westeros to take back the Iron Throne as the rightful heir, and bring peace and prosperity to these lands. Cersei has left those in King's Landing starving and deprived, and I plan to lift the strains of her oppression much like how I broke the chains of slavery in all of Essos, and left them with the guarantee of freedom."

Joy filled Daenerys' heart as she heard their cheers yet again. She wanted nothing more than to better the lives of all she met, and it made her feel more secure now that she was loved by the people she had sworn to protect.

"Our military council will meet tomorrow to begin strategizing for the Last War, but for now I would love for you all to celebrate our success, and most importantly, Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell!"

Daenerys lifted a glass of water to Arya, who smiled back slightly as those around her applauded wildly.

The dinner was started. Daenerys picked very lightly at a piece of bread, and talked of old times with Missandei while trying to explain to Jon and the others what Essos was like. Jon tried to remain pleasant and interested, but the thought of Theon made any other feelings impossible. Sansa smiled and joined in occasionally, but her heart was set on finding Theon. Surely he would come to see her if he survived, right? The thought began to consume her more as the days went by, and she knew the chance of his safe return diminished with each passing hour. Her heart pounded with the possibilities, and she tried to act normal, forcing herself to engage in the conversations around her. She couldn't help but notice that Jon avoided eye contact with her the entire night.

As people danced and sang folk tunes, Daenerys pulled a very drunk Tyrion aside.

"Tyrion, as one of my most trusted advisors, I must tell you something rather important concerning myself," She said, trying to stay nonchalant.

"Please don't tell me you've been mortally wounded, I don't think we could find another Dragon Queen overnight, as the Northerners like to call you." He mumbled, happy that his plan to impress the North had worked.

"Tyrion, I need you to focus with me for just a moment, please."

"Your Grace, why are you not drunk? Shouldn't you need something to relax after staring death in the face," he said, offering the wine to her.

Normally she would have deeply scolded him for this behavior, but she knew after such a battle, this was expected. She gently pushed the wine away from her face.

"Tyrion, I can't drink that, I'm with child, and no one can know," she whispered in his ear.

His face froze, and he looked at her in the eyes,

"Who's the father?" He deadpanned.

"Who do you think the father is? It's Jon." She whispered, slightly irritated.

"Well, I suppose that is important. Congratulations, but we're going to need to figure out how to properly publicize this relationship, and get you married quickly so that no one suspects anything. Your secret is safe with me, but there's a lot that must be sorted."

"Yes, and that's all fine and good, but we need to secure this upcoming battle. Wouldn't you agree that's more important at the moment?"

"What's important is the support of the people, because without them, you lose a considerable amount of your army. Many of the men you brought from across the sea were lost in the war, but the Northmen will pledge to fight with you, especially with a marriage to Jon. If the remaining forces from your army and Jon's army come together, we could get back to the amount of soldiers we had when we sailed for Westeros. The ramifications of this pregnancy, a marriage and a secure heir, well, they may be the final pieces of how you win this war."

"I suppose this could all work. Tomorrow, we will figure this out. I'll talk to the Northern armies, and try to convince them to fight for me."

Tyrion nodded,

"One more piece of advice, Your Grace. Let Jon do that. They are as loyal to him as the Dothraki and Unsullied are to you, and it will save you energy and time if you let him help you. It won't hurt."

"Thank you Tyrion, for everything."

He raised his empty wine glass to her and then excused himself to find another one.

When people began to retire for the night, Jon pulled Sansa aside.

"Sansa, I must tell you something, it's about Theon."

Her heart stopped and she looked at him. He saw nothing but fear in her eyes.

Arya appeared in the Great Hall. Daenerys sat in the center with her hands folded neatly on her lap. It was late, and the hall was now empty, though it seemed to be echoing the cheers and songs that had lived in the room just hours before.

"You wanted to see me Your Grace?" Arya asked stoically.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

Arya sat down a couple of chairs away from Daenerys.

"First, I'd like to thank you immensely for what you did, if you hadn't killed the Night King, we would all be marching south to kill Cersei, but not as I imagined it, I'm afraid."

Arya didn't smile. Daenerys swallowed, and continued,

"I know you see me as an outsider, as someone who has never seen your home in her life but who thinks she knows what's best for it. But I am the last living Targaryen, and I am the rightful heir to the throne. I don't want to cause more war, I want to free the people who have been oppressed, and I want to see that they remain free," She paused, not sure if anything was working.

Arya finally looked up,

"At first, I didn't like you. I thought you were entitled and rude. But I saw what you did during the battle. You risked your dragons, and you risked your own life defending that same land you know nothing about. I don't trust easily, Daenerys, I've seen too much for that, but I do believe you are a good person. If it's me you're worried about, don't be. I wouldn't threaten you; I know you're trying to help."

Daenerys smiled, unsure how to fully interpret that answer. Arya stood up to leave.

"I appreciate those sentiments Arya, but I had another question for you,"

Arya looked up, stunned by the continuation of the conversation.

"From what I've heard and seen, you're a skilled assassin. You know King's Landing well enough to navigate parts of it. I'd like for you to be on the military council, and assign you to the very specific task of killing Cersei when the time comes, if you are willing to risk your life again."

Arya smiled widely. Daenerys couldn't take credit for this idea fully; it was Jon that suggested giving Arya this opportunity would help her to move fully to Dany's side.

"That was already my plan, but I would be honored. Thank you Your Grace."

Before she left, she bent the knee. It was quick, but it was all Daenerys needed to see that she now had all of the Starks on her side. Well, all except Bran.  
…

Sansa stumbled back to her room, broken and alone. She was numb, and felt nothing as she undressed, slipped into her nightclothes, and laid her head on the pillow. Clara began to whimper from her crib on the side of the bed. Sansa slowly lifted Clara onto her shoulder, and rocked her gently. She began to hum a lullaby that she sang to her with Theon the day after she was born, when they escaped Winterfell. Eventually, she lied back and stared up at the ceiling. Sansa didn't sleep that night.

Notes: Thank you for reading, please leave a review if you liked it! Next chapters will be up very very soon!


	5. Here Comes the Sun

Notes: Hi all! This chapter is sort of like a big therapy session for everyone, and I just wanted to warn that there is some mention of past abuse/rape, but there are no graphic details or anything like that.

Sansa didn't leave her room the next morning. She asked Arya to take Clara, and crawled right back into bed once they left. Daenerys was terribly worried about her. When Sansa wasn't out for breakfast, Dany left her quarters to find Jon, who had also disappeared early in the morning. She eventually caught a glance of him sitting alone on one of the balconies of the castle. He glanced up at her and smiled hollowly, offering his hand to help her sit beside him.

"Jon, I never knew Theon, but I can see how he's affected you and your sister. If you need time, I'll postpone the battle meetings, I want you both to feel okay, and I know that takes time."

"No, Dany, we have to continue on schedule. They didn't die so that we could grow vulnerable and lose this," He snapped.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked out to the very busy scene at Winterfell: stable hands feeding horses, soldiers cleaning weapons, and others creating the pyres for the funeral. He was right: time didn't stop for anyone.

"I'm sorry," he said gently, "I just want to do them justice in this world."

"We will Jon, I promise you that. May I ask who Theon was exactly?"

"Well, he was brought here during the Greyjoy Rebellion when he was only a boy, and he grew up alongside all of us here. He was like a brother, but after my father was beheaded, and Robb was killed, he turned on us. He tried to take Winterfell, and claimed to have killed Bran and Rickon, but it in reality he burned two innocent farm boys poised as them. It was a disaster, but it only got worse when the Bolton's took Winterfell from him."

He paused for a moment, and looked to Daenerys, who was listening intently.

"The rest is hard to talk about, but I think it's important for you to know."

"Take as much time as you need Jon, I'm right here."

"You can imagine how much I hated him when he betrayed my family. I didn't so much as investigate when the Boltons sent me a raven saying that they had Theon: he was as good as dead to me. I was at the Wall, and I didn't have the strength in me to fight and retake Winterfell anyways. I began throwing out the letters, but I didn't realize that within them, they were telling me that they had Sansa." Tears sprang to his eyes, and his voice shook when he said her name.

"I know that Ramsay broke Theon into a loyal servant, but except for what Theon told me, I don't really know the extent of the horrors they faced there; Sansa won't talk about it. Finally, after about another six ravens were sent, I opened the latest one to see what it was that they could possibly want. It was an announcement that Sansa was pregnant, and due to have Ramsay's child in just a couple of weeks. I didn't know the monster that Ramsay was then, but I knew that Sansa would never stay quiet for so long by her own will, and that she would never have married a Bolton without coercion. I had a feeling that something was wrong, and I travelled with a few of my men down to Winterfell. I found Sansa, Theon, and Lady Brienne at an inn north of Winterfell; it was luck that stumbled upon them. The owners were loyal to the Starks, and they promised to hide them there. Sansa was terribly ill; she had just given birth to Clara, and there were no maesters to help her. We thought for certain she wouldn't make it, but after about a week she pulled through. During that time, when Sansa was unconscious, Theon told some of what had happened. He helped Sansa escape after she killed Ramsay. Sansa saved herself, but Theon got her out of Winterfell. It felt hard to believe that the man who betrayed us had helped my sister escape. But then I saw it. You see, there were times when Sansa's delusions and agony during the fever were too much for me to bear, and I'd have to leave the room. I offered for Theon to come with me, but he refused leave her side. He would talk to her even when she was delirious with the fever, he'd clean her with the rags that the owners offered, and he always made sure that Clara was okay. When she came to, he got her through the nightmares that started shortly thereafter. She did the same for him. He fought alongside me in the battle for Winterfell, and he had been with us ever since we returned. I don't know what's going to happen without him."

Daenerys sat and thought for a moment, trying to take in everything that Jon had told her.

"She'll survive, again. Sansa is such a strong person, Jon, and we'll be here to support her. I wish I could give you some grand speech to make you feel better, but I can't."

She held out her hand, and he gripped it tightly. She pressed her forehead to his.

"I'm here for you Jon. Anything, just ask, and I'll see to it."

They sat there for a while, holding hands, finding strength within one another.

"I'm going to speak with Sansa, if she'll have me. I know the meeting is starting in a few hours, but I think this is important, she shouldn't be alone." Daenerys said softly.

He nodded as he helped her stand up,

"It's okay Jon, I can still stand up on my own, for now," she winked.

"Oh, wait," she said suddenly, "you said that Sansa killed that monster? How did she manage that?" Daenerys asked upon reflection.

"That's her story to tell," Jon said with the slightest grin on his face.

…

Sansa awoke to a slight knock on the door, and she sat up in bed as Daenerys stepped into the doorframe.

"Hello Your Grace, apologies for my appearance, I just…"

"You don't need to explain," Daenerys said, sitting on the side of the bed gently.

"It hurts, a lot." Sansa said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"I know it does, when I lost my husband, and Ser Jorah, I wanted to lie down and die right next to them. Every time I try to continue on with my life, I'm reminded Jorah will never be by my side again."

"Daenerys, I don't think you understand. Theon and I, we made it through imprisonment and torture together at the hands of the same man. We pulled each other through our most vulnerable times, and we healed together. He'd been like a father to Clara, and we found strength in each other, I don't know what to do without him. It's a bond no one else has."

Daenerys thought for a moment,

"You're right, I don't have a bond as you did with Theon, but I do know what it's like to be chained and abused. My marriage to Drogo was very difficult for quite some time, and Jorah would try to comfort me, promising me that I was strong enough to survive it. He didn't share the same pain as I, but he certainly made me feel just a little bit better."

Sansa looked up at Daenerys in curiosity,

"Daenerys, did your husband rape you?"

She closed her eyes and nodded, and Sansa sighed empathetically.

"It's a complicated matter, and I used to try and avoid it, but I won't deny that truth. We were able to grow a relationship out of that marriage, but I was so young. I've learned a lot since then."

Sansa moved to the edge of the bed, next to Daenerys. She took her hand, and leaned her head on her shoulder. Daenerys wrapped an arm around Sansa, and they sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company.

"We've been through so much, and our closest friends that helped us to heal were taken away. It can't get better." Sansa sniffled.

"Oh but it will Sansa, it will get better," she stroked her hair, "do you know how I know?"

Sansa shook her head.

"When I think of Jorah, my heart is seared with only pain. But when I think of others who I've lost, I tend to smile and remember only good memories. Time has a funny way of turning our pain into something so bittersweet, and I know that in time, I will hear Jorah's name, and think of all the wonderful things about him, instead of the pain I'm plagued with right now."

Sansa looked up at Daenerys and smiled,

"Thank you, Daenerys, I do want to believe you, it just doesn't feel possible right now," Sansa said quietly.

"I know dear, I wouldn't have believed it if you told me that when I lost my son and husband," Dany replied.

Sansa sat up and wiped tears from her eyes,

"May I ask you a question Daenerys?"

Daenerys nodded.

"Who exactly were Rhaego and Drogo?"

Daenerys took a deep breath, remembering how she had asked Jon about Theon earlier. She thought it might be easier, so she decided to tell her everything. Her childhood with her brother, her forced marriage, her husband and son's death, the birth of her dragons, her conquests, her betrayals, successes, failures, everything. Sansa listened in shock about the surprisingly grim life of the Dragon Queen.

Later, when she was ready, Sansa did the same. From her happy childhood, father's death, time with Joffrey and Cersei, marriage to Tyrion, manipulation by Littlefinger, marriage to Ramsay, the birth of her daughter, her escape from Winterfell, and the glory she felt when they took it back.

They both felt understood, and Sansa felt well enough to attend the meeting and later the funeral.

"I must ask you one more question," Sansa said as Daenerys stood up to leave.

Daenerys turned to face her again.

"The father of my daughter is Ramsay Bolton, there's no avoiding that truth for myself, but I was wondering if maybe we could say she is a Greyjoy. I don't want his house to exist anymore, not after what they did to my family. She's nothing like them, but I don't even want her to know they existed if I can avoid it. Theon was more of a father than, well, I don't need to elaborate," Sansa paused, looking up to Daenerys.

"Well, I will certainly allow you to call her a Greyjoy if that's what you wish. I don't think your people will mind either; I'm sure they don't want the Bolton lineage continued. But Sansa, she is yours too. Maybe you'd like to call her Clara Stark instead?" Daenerys suggested.

"That does have a nice ring to it," Sansa considered, "I just want a way to keep Theon's memory alive."

"You don't have to decide today. But Sansa, I would suggest you tell her the truth when she's older. Gossip across the kingdoms will find your daughter's ears one day, and she'll discover the truth. If she knows growing up, it may make it easier on her."

Sansa nodded but didn't reply: she had a lot to think about.

…

The council room, which was full of chatter and movement, fell silent once Daenerys entered. Everyone bowed their heads, and she took a seat at the head of the table.

"Thank you all for being here so quickly after the battle. There is much to discuss, but before we get into that, I have an important announcement to make. Throughout my time in Westeros, I have spent much of it with your Jon Snow. He met me at Dragonstone, and since then we have been working together to defeat the dead. Now he has pledged to help me defeat Cersei, and to the Northern Men who have agreed to fight alongside us again, I thank you. As Lord Snow and I have become allies during this time, we have also become great friends. To tie the Kingdom together as well as to meet our own desires, Jon Snow and I are to be married at Winterfell before we leave to fight the last war."

It was silent for a moment, and then Tyrion began clapping. Soon Sansa, who knew this would happen, joined in, and in just a few seconds the entire room was in a standing ovation, slamming tables and cheering for their rulers.

"I appreciate the excitement, but we must begin strategizing for the next fight." Jon said happily.

The meeting with military and council advisors took over four hours. They discussed each and every possible tactic Cersei could use, and the benefits and risks of each of their possible approaches. They took inventory on their armies, supplies, and even morale. It was an exhausting debacle, but everyone was doing everything they could to contribute. They knew it would be the biggest fight of their lives, but their defeat of the dead seemed to add a necessary confidence to the group.

"It's simple," Tyrion said as he summarized the plans of the map sprawled before him, "We fly Rhaegal to Dragonstone as a red herring. It will make my sister spread out her armies and King's Landing won't be as heavily guarded when we arrive. Drogon can take it from there."

Many nodded in agreement to his plan, wondering how it would play out, and if they would survive.

"We should give King's Landing a chance, send a raven, tell Cersei to send a signal if she surrenders, I don't want to burn the entire city if we don't have to." Tyrion added.

Sansa pipped up from behind, "let them ring the bells. I saw them when I was there; when they're rung the entire city can hear them. You'll know, Your Grace, if she rings them. Then you can bring Drogon back down, and we can have her executed."

"Your Grace," Jon said, "can Drogon fly by himself? I fear it would be too dangerous for you to fly during the battle, especially because…" he paused and Tyrion looked up in sudden realization.

"Because what?" She said, raising her eyebrows.

"I have flown on Drogon for as long as he's been big enough to support me. I know what to do, and I assure you it's safer than having me on a ship or even far away on Dragonstone. He'll keep me safe."

It seemed to be all settled. In another two weeks, once everyone was recovered well enough, half of the soldiers would march for King's Landing, and the other half would arrive there by fleet. Twenty ploy ships would be sent to Dragonstone with Rhaegal, until the morning of the attack, when he would fly to be with his brother and mother. A warning would be sent to Cersei just an hour before, and then it was war. Daenerys would be riding Drogon. Even though they would leave in two weeks, it would be about two months before the men and ships reached their target. Sansa would stay in the North with Clara, heading to the Night's Watch with Brienne and Missandei if something were to go wrong. Jon and Grey Worm would command the Fleets and Armies, and Arya would stay with ground armies until it was time for her to sneak into the city. It would be risky, but if it worked, Cersei would be gone forever and Daenerys would have the Seven Kingdoms.

Finally, the meeting was over. Daenerys walked to the side of the room to find Clara curled up, sleeping next to Ghost. His head shot up as soon as she approached, but when he realized who it was, he laid his head back onto the ground.

Sansa came over, "You can pick her up if you'd like,"

Dany bent over and carefully picked Clara up, settling her head in the crook of her elbow. Her eyelids fluttered, and she appeared to be dreaming. Sansa walked with Daenerys back to her chambers.

"Your daughter is absolutely beautiful," Daenerys said, smiling as she looked down at Clara.

"Thank you. She's a very sweet girl; she's funny, and kind. I can tell by the way she treats Ghost, with such gentleness and respect; it's something I can't quite explain, but she seems to love everyone and everything. She's so innocent." Sansa smiled as she looked at her daughter.

Daenerys smiled and carefully set her into Sansa's arms.

"Of course she's all of those things, she's yours! I must go prepare for the funeral this evening, but I shall see you there. It feels like this day is never going to end."

"Tell me about it," Sansa whispered as she quietly shut the door behind her.

…

Sam was happy to finally leave the meeting. He gave some valuable contributions, but war was never his strong suit. He had congratulated Jon on his marriage announcement, but as he turned the corner of the dining hall to eat with Gilly, Bran sat in the corner.

"Ah, I was waiting for you," he said, looking into Sam's eyes.

"My Lord, how can I help you?"

"Don't call me Your Lord, you know I'm not anything like that anymore. Samwell, when are you planning on telling Jon and Daenerys the truth? You told me that you were the one that should do it, so why haven't you?"

"Well, Bran, I was getting ready to, after the Battle, but before I could leave the Great Hall, Daenerys literally fell ill right in front of me, I had to help, and then, well…"

"And then you discovered that she was pregnant," Bran finished.

Sam was surprised for a moment, still trying to accustom himself to the fact that Bran knew everything.

"Yes, then he stayed with her, and I left them. There hasn't been a good time since." Sam admitted.

"Don't you think they should know before they get married? Shouldn't Jon know he has a claim to the throne?" Bran asked rhetorically.

"What difference does it make? Family relations have never stopped Targaryen's from pursuing their romantic relationships. And I know that you are the Three Eyed Raven, but have you ever seen them interact? I've never seen something quite so marvelous. They need each other now, regardless of who they are. I promise you, I will tell them in time, but let them get through this war first, they don't need more to worry about."

Bran looked at Sam stoically,

"I won't interfere with your plan, but Jon has been true and good to you for as long as you've known him. He deserves the same honesty from you."

Sam nodded, and offered to take Bran back to his quarters.


	6. She Used to Be Mine

Notes: Hello! This chapter is a little bit dark; it explores a part of Sansa's past from her own perspective. Warning: there is a scene with childbirth that is a bit graphic, and implied abuse/rape, but nothing graphic there. Since Clara is an original character, I thought I would give more detail to her background. Thank you for reading!

"Northerners and Southerners, young and old, native and foreign, gave their lives on this land to defeat an enemy that threatened the very existence of life as we know it. If they could set aside their differences and offer the ultimate sacrifice to save humanity, then it is our mission, our rightful duty, to set aside our differences and fight to improve the world that they died protecting. Many, as I am, are heartbroken by the loss of our friends, families, and mentors. As I said earlier, we fight to keep their memory alive, and remember them for their bravery, kindness, or the unique qualities that made them who they were. Our sadness will fade in time, but our love and honor for them will not."

Daenerys paused to look at Jorah, and closed her eyes as her heart threatened to betray her again. Jon stepped to the front, and took her hand. Together, they took turns reading the names of the fallen. It took nearly a half an hour to get through them all. At the end of the list, Jon began to speak.

"This is the list of the men and women who we could locate or identify. We would like to include in our honoring the men who are missing, or who could not be recognized. It is to them that we owe our lives, and our newfound ability to continue on with our journeys, whatever they may be, to make the world a better place."

Once the speeches commenced, a few moved forward to say their final goodbyes. Sansa's hand shook while she placed a direwolf pin to Theon's armor. Tears slipped down her face, but she let them fall. She looked over to Daenerys, whose strength wavered as she looked at Ser Jorah for the last time. For some reason, Jon was drawn to Lyanna Mormont, and he muttered a final thank you before he looked out to all of the fallen. They backed away as the fire began to grow immensely. Sansa looked down, focusing on the ground right underneath her. Jon came over and embraced her. She took a deep breath and turned with the others to head back inside. Daenerys left to visit Drogon and Rhaegal.

…

Daenerys entered her and Jon's chambers well past sunset and sighed at Jon, who was already lying in bed, tucked warmly under the covers.

"I think this was the longest day I've ever had, and I can't even relax like you," Daenerys said, pointing to the full glass of wine in Jon's hands.

"Well, I can help you relax," he said suggestively.

"Jon!" Daenerys blushed, looking over to Missandei who stifled a laugh.

She ducked behind the dressing curtain with Missandei, who began to take out her braids as she got undressed.

"I think we need to teach Jon a little bit more about courtesy to royalty," Daenerys said to Missandei.

"I'll teach him myself if it pleases you your Grace," Missandei laughed, looking past the curtain to Jon.

Daenerys and Jon wished her goodnight, and Dany climbed into bed alongside Jon. He played with her hair while she ran her fingers along his chest.

He looked at her with lust, and tried to roll her nightgown over her head, but she stopped him, cupping his face in her palms.

"Jon, I'm so tired, do you think we could wait just a little longer?" she asked kindly.

"Of course," he said, gently settling her next to him, "you can have as much time as you need, you just tell me when you're ready," He said, looking straight into her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but you can still kiss me if you wish."

It didn't take long before they were slowly drifting to sleep.

…

Daenerys awoke with a start. She sat straight up in bed, looking around for the source of the noise she thought she had heard. Was it just a bad dream? Jon was snoring gently beside her, and she began to lean back, but then she heard it again. It was a faraway cry.

"Jon, Jon, get up!" She whispered, nudging his shoulder.

He rubbed his eyes and looked drowsily to his wife,

"What is it?" he asked groggily.

"Goodness, you can really sleep through anything, can't you?" She muttered under her breath.

There was silence for a moment, and then a scream, louder than the one that Daenerys heard before. Jon got up, lit a candle from the fireplace, and walked into the hall.

Daenerys crossed her arms and looked out into the hallway. There was nothing.

Jon traced the sounds to the end of the hall. Suddenly his breath caught: Sansa. He turned the corner to her room and saw Brienne rushing in from her quarters.

"Daenerys, hurry, it's Sansa!" Jon yelled to her.

Daenerys marched quickly down to the end of the hall, and her eyes widened when she saw Sansa thrashing around in the bed, screaming at the nightmare in her mind. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her heart sunk when she realized what Jon had said about the nightmares. Clara was standing in her crib with her arms held out, clearly startled by the shrieks of her mother. Jon ran over to pick her up, and Daenerys kneeled at Sansa's bedside.

Jon sat and tried to calm Clara down, but she continued to cry and reach for her mother.

"It's one of the nightmares Dany, she can't see past it." Jon said as Daenerys tried to shake Sansa awake.

"Okay, well, I'm not going to leave her here. Take her Jon, she shouldn't see this," Daenerys said, nodding to the baby in his arms.

"Everyone else should leave too, let me handle this," Daenerys said to the maidens who had entered the room.

"My Lord, would you like me to take Clara from you?" Brienne asked kindly.

"Ah, that's okay; I can watch her for a little while. Thank you Brienne."

She nodded and returned to the outside of Sansa's chambers.

Jon took Clara into the dining hall, setting her down to walk around the large room. Ghost came to join them, and he felt relieved that Clara would be distracted. Clara took a few steps forward, and then she turned around and stumbled back to Jon, reaching her arms up and whimpering.

"You want me to hold you? You have all this free space Lady Clara, I thought you'd like to explore," he pondered to his niece.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder when he picked her up. He sat down on one of the benches, and Ghost jumped up, licking Clara's face as she giggled and tried to brush him away.

"Mama," she babbled, looking around the room.

"Oh Clara, we can't see your mama right now, she's not feeling too well. But she's getting help, and we'll see her soon." Jon said, bouncing her gently on his knee.

He played with Clara and Ghost for a while, until Clara got tired enough and fell asleep. Jon carried Clara back to his chambers; he figured she could sleep on his and Dany's bed until Sansa was better. He smiled as he watched her hands and feet twitch, and the corners of her mouth turn into a smile. She must have been dreaming of Ghost, because she looked as if she was pushing his gentle kisses away from her face. Jon watched her, mesmerized by the pure joy and innocence of his niece.

...

The light was fading from Sansa's eyes. She was struggling with every ounce in her body to stay awake, but with each blink her eyes stayed closed just a little longer. Blood had soaked nearly all of the sheets underneath her, and it felt cold as it dried on the inside of her thighs.

"Sansa, please, stay with us," her midwife begged from the foot of the bed.

Sansa sat up on her elbows and waited for the next contraction. She let out tiny cries as she pushed. Her entire body began to shake, and she fell back against the pillows.

"I can't do this." Sansa said as she gasped for air.

"Oh my dear child, you're doing wonderful. Remember to breathe with each contraction. The baby is in a great position, it shouldn't be much longer, I can just see the head starting to come through." The midwife tried to hide her concern, but she knew Sansa was becoming very feverish; her skin felt hot to the touch.

"You can do this Sansa; you're the strongest person I know." Theon said quietly. She nodded to him, grateful for the encouragement, and sat up again.

She whimpered as another contraction ripped through her, and she pushed.

"Harder, Sansa push harder, that's it, you're doing it!" The midwife exclaimed.

Tears streamed down Sansa's face and she choked back another sob as the pain grew to a fire between her legs. She desperately wanted to lie down, but Theon slid his hand behind her back, limiting her movement as the midwife instructed. Ramsay had forced Theon to stay with Sansa throughout her entire labor, no doubt more mental torture for him to see Sansa like this.

"Theon…err Reek, come help me hold her legs please," the midwife asked quietly.

Theon slowly moved next to the end of the bed, and followed the midwife's instructions. He took Sansa's legs and bent her knees backward, moving her legs apart: Sansa didn't have the strength to keep her knees bent anymore. Theon nearly passed out from the sight of all the blood, but he managed to keep his footing. Sansa needed him, and this was all he could do to help her.

"Push my Lady; I can really see the head now. Please!"

Sansa's hair was messy and plastered to the side of her face, covered by a mix of sweat and tears. Her arms lay limply by her sides, and her fingers were tracing small circles on the sheets beneath her. Her legs were shaking fervently, and her breathing was labored.

But she didn't give up. Eventually, she felt the baby's head begin to crown, sharply pressing against her. She could feel an immense tearing and she pushed even harder.

"Theon, help me." Sansa struggled as she looked down at him.

"One more time my Lady, bear down once more and it will all be over."

Sansa devoted what little energy she had left to another push. Her jaw clenched together and she leaned forward, using all of her pent up anger from the past months to what she knew had to be the final one. She leaned back when she felt the overwhelming release of pressure between her legs. The baby slipped out and Sansa released the biggest exhale of her life. She hoped Ramsay was far away from the outside of her door. The midwife held the baby in Sansa's view for a moment, and she could see right away how tiny and fragile the baby was. Unlike how her younger siblings had been, this baby was small and skinny and Sansa shrunk into the bed when she realized how furious Ramsay might be that she hadn't delivered a fat, healthy baby. The baby had red hair like her and curled up from the cold as the midwife brought the infant into her lap. Finally, Sansa heard a cry. Theon quickly came to Sansa's bedside and wiped her forehead, which was glistening with beads of cold sweat.

The midwife cut the umbilical cord with a knife and cleaned the baby with towels and warm water. She wrapped the baby in a blanket and rocked gently, but she couldn't get it to stop crying. The midwife tried to hand the baby to Sansa, but she refused to hold the screaming bundle. She wouldn't fall in love with something Ramsay would only take away from her.

"Please, take it away. I don't want to see it." Sansa said quietly, her eyes closed.

The midwife looked at Sansa apologetically,

"My Lady, please, babies won't quiet down until they feel the familiar heart beats of their mothers, if you'll just let the child lay on your chest for a moment."

Sansa didn't have the strength to refuse anymore, so the midwife peeled back Sansa's nightgown and laid the baby on her chest. Sansa gasped when she felt the warmth of the newborn's skin, and turned her head to look. Her hands were shaking, and she couldn't resist the urge to gently pat the baby's back and try to calm it down. The baby finally stopped crying and fixed its eyes on its mother. Sansa nervously waited for Ramsay to come bursting through the door, but the world was silent except for the loud winds whistling outside and the quick shallow breaths of her newborn baby. Sansa brought her hand to the baby's face. It started to whimper again, and Sansa looked down fretfully.

"Shhh, it's okay little one. I'm right here, you're just fine," she cooed.

The baby's eyes closed slowly, and its entire fist grasped onto Sansa's pinky, squeezing with all its might. It didn't hurt delivering the afterbirth, and if it did Sansa was too focused on the child in her arms to notice. She counted all of the baby's fingers, and smiled as she listened to the tiniest little breaths and whimpers that she had ever heard. The midwife began cleaning Sansa, and she winced as the water stung her wounds. Sansa decided it was time, and slowly looked down to reveal her baby's gender. She let out another cry when she saw that she had given birth to a girl.

"What is it my Lady, are you hurting?" Theon asked.

"It's a girl." She softly admitted.

She looked up to Theon, "I can't do this anymore, Theon please help me." Her daughter began to cry again as well and Sansa bounced her in her arms, trying to quiet her down. She was dizzy and could barely stand to form coherent thoughts anymore.

"I'm not Theon, my Lady. Maybe Ramsay will show mercy if you are honest with him and the next baby you have is a boy."

"Mercy? Look at me Theon. He does not know what mercy is." Sansa whispered.

"I can't let this happen to her, please Theon, I need to escape. She'll never be safe here."

Theon looked to the door, and then back into Sansa's eyes.

"We can't, Sansa, you've just given birth, you couldn't possibly, even if we wanted to."

"Tomorrow then, I'll force myself to move; maybe he'll wait until tomorrow to…" She shuddered as she imagined the things Ramsay might do when he learned he had a daughter.

"Sansa, if he catches us we'll both be…"

"What? Tortured? Killed? If he comes back and I'm defenseless, still locked up in this room, Theon, it already hurts so much, and imagine what he'll do to her, this innocent baby, my baby! I need help Theon, please."

…

"Oh Sansa, please come back. Ramsay's gone, he's dead! You're here, with me, it's okay!"

Sansa took a deep gasp and was suddenly lying in her own bed, Daenerys by her side with a cool rag patting her forehead. Her breathing slowed, and she looked around the room in a daze.

"Clara? Where is she?" She panicked.

"Shh, she's with Jon, she's just fine Sansa." Daenerys whispered.

She lied back in bed and looked into Daenerys's graceful lilac eyes.

"What's happening to me? I thought these were over, but I have no control over them. I have no control over anything. I start to feel better, and then it all comes back. I'm so scared all of the time" She admitted.

"Sansa, they're panic attacks. After a traumatic event, like losing Theon, your mind reverted to the last place where you felt that much dread and you go there. I read that in a book somewhere on the boat."

"How do I get out of them?"

"You have to remember to breathe, and trace your steps back to the present. I think of something specific that didn't exist then. It brings me back."

"What's yours?"

Daenerys paused, "Jon."

Sansa gave her a weak smile,

"I know I told you that we ran from Winterfell, but do you know how I escaped from Ramsay?" Sansa asked, looking down at her hands.

"No," Daenerys answered quietly.

"I stabbed him. The midwife left me the knife she used to cut the cord between Clara and me, and I hid it under the mattress. He didn't come in until the next night, no doubt to play some sort of game with my mind. I spent the day resting and preparing to risk our lives to escape. Like clockwork he came in to… and well, when he wasn't paying attention, I stabbed him in the neck. Theon and I jumped over the side of the tower with Clara, I could barely walk but we managed to find Lady Brienne and we survived. I almost died from so much bleeding in the days following her birth, but when I woke up again I was at an inn and Jon was there," she paused, "I was happy that we were okay, and even happier when we took back Winterfell, but I haven't found myself again. I'm not really sure if I know who that is."

"Sansa, I know you don't feel like you're the same person anymore, not after what they've done to you, but she's in there. You have to fight though, to bring her back to you. It's not easy, but it's the fight you've been given. I can't imagine the pain you must feel, but I've seen the strength within you. You can create a new future."

"I have been trying for my daughter. I've been feeling better, but Theon, something in me broke again. But I'll survive, it's what we do."

Daenerys placed her hands on Sansa's and smiled.

"You should get some rest now, I'll go find Clara for you, I'm sure she's missing her mother by now."

Sansa exhaled and wiped sweat from her face. She leaned against the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to imagine her daughter's face. Her shining blue eyes, chubby round cheeks, and that gorgeous red hair that glistened in the sunlight. This is what she decided would bring her back to the present, as Clara was exactly the thing that had inspired her to fight for her life in the past.


	7. Dancing Queen

Notes: Hello! This chapter has lots of fluff and is a well deserved break from all of the angst. I did add some modern elements to the wedding, but I think it's still pretty believable. Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Daenerys yawned as she walked out of the latest council meeting. They had been discussing plans for repair and restructure of King's Landing if they were to win, and they quickly came to the realization that they had no Master of Coin. Daenerys said she would consider candidates over the next few weeks and come up with a decision, but all she could think about was how wonderful a foot massage would feel. She had been working and planning and ruling for the past few months with only a few spare hours here and there to herself, but she decided she was going to take the rest of the day off. She was making her way to the bathing chambers when Sansa caught her by surprise.

"Goodness, Lady Sansa, I didn't see you there."

"My apologies your Grace," Sansa said, shifting Clara on her hip, "I actually came to ask you a question."

"Sure, what is it?" Daenerys asked.

"I was wondering if you had anyone to make your dress for the wedding? Sewing and embroidery is sort of my specialty, and I'd love to create something for you as a thank you for all you've done for me. I can finish it in two weeks, and I have my assistant right here," she said, tapping Clara on the nose.

"Well, I will be honest with you, I hadn't even thought of who was to make the dress, but I would be honored if you would take up that task. With Jon's clothes, whenever I compliment the embroidery, he says it's your work. I know that Missandei has been looking into fabrics, so if you have any questions or need more experienced help, I'm sure she'd be glad to help. Plus, she's doing my hair, so I'm sure she will appreciate you handling the dress part."

Sansa thanked Daenerys and left to go find Missandei, but Daenerys stopped her.

"Sansa, do you have a nanny for Clara? I saw that other highborn ladies always had someone to carry around and feed their babies for them, have you not the funds or personnel for such?"

"Oh it's nothing like that your Grace; it's just that I actually prefer to care for her myself. We've been pretty inseparable since, well, I guess since she's been alive. I have my maidens watch her from time to time when I'm at a dinner or sorting things out for the North, but most of the time she just tags along with me. Many find babies to be annoying or fussy, but I do enjoy her company. She's a little more fun now that she's learning to walk and talk, but she's always been very quiet and agreeable. Better than most others I've shared company with to be quite honest with you."

Daenerys laughed and couldn't deny that truth. Clara was resting her head on Sansa's chest, looking shyly at the Dragon Queen.

Sansa leaned in to Daenerys, "Don't worry, when your baby comes, all of the best nannies in the seven kingdoms will be here to help you. You won't ever have to change a single nappy or feed them once if you don't want to."

Daenerys rolled her eyes, "Well, hopefully I can be a little more helpful than that. I suppose these aren't here for nothing," she said, looking down at her chest.

Sansa blushed, but she couldn't hold back a laugh.

Two weeks later

"Are you ready Your Grace?" Grey Worm asked as Daenerys stepped out of the doorway of her quarters.

"Of course," she grinned.

It was approaching sunset, the time that Daenerys and Jon decided they would be married. The sky was a mix of orange and pink and purple, colors that seemed so much warmer than the frigid Northern air. As she stepped into the hall, Sansa came up to her, smiling with excitement.

"Your Grace, are you sure that you don't want me to check the stitching again? I could do one final run through before we go out."

"Sansa, there's nothing more we need to do, the dress is incredible. Now, let's get outside before Jon and the others freeze to death out there." She laughed, holding Sansa's hand.

She was right, the dress was perfect. It was white as per tradition, and it swept out at the bottom, creating a small train behind it. Sansa had spent hours roaming Winterfell with Missandei to find the right fabrics, and they had decided upon a thick cotton material for the outside of the dress, with fur lining on the inside to keep Daenerys warm. Sansa had felt bad that she could not create the fashionable gowns from Essos that Missandei had shown her, but living in the North meant warmth over style. Daenerys, who was not accustomed to the cold, told Sansa to make the dress as warm as possible, and that they could focus on fashion when winter was over. While the dress was plain, Sansa had managed to embroider a dragon on the inside of the right sleeve, and a direwolf on other. It was Daenerys' favorite part of the dress, and she kept playing with the sleeves while Missandei pulled her hair into its magnificent braids. Daenerys endlessly thanked Missandei and Sansa as they walked out together to the Godswood.

It was a crowded affair. Everyone wanted to catch a glance of the marriage between their King and their Queen, and they lined the entire path from Winterfell to the Godswood. Dany was constantly observing all that was around her, but when they got close enough, she focused on only Jon. He smiled at the ground when she appeared, and then stared back into her eyes.

As she proceeded towards him, Jon could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that their marriage wouldn't change anything about their relationship, and that he had already sworn his life to Daenerys, but something about seeing her walking towards him in the golden sunlight made him remember how much love he had for Daenerys. Love. It was a feeling that he hadn't felt in so many years, but just looking at her made the feeling come flooding back. Her hair was braided perfectly; the golden and silver curls fell uniformly around her face. The dress perfectly extenuated the curve of her body, and it flowed behind her as she walked. Her cheeks were pink with the flush of the winter air, but her hands were warm when she wrapped her ungloved fingers around his.  
Once they met, the Septon began to deliver the few necessary prayers for a Northern wedding. Arya and Sansa stood together, and Bran stared at Sam, who continuously ignored him.

Finally, the prayers and speeches were over, and the Septon began to tie Daenerys and Jon's hands together with ribbon to symbolize their union.

"If anyone has an interjection with the joining of Queen Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow, King in the North, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

It was silent. Sam's heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't make his mouth move. He sighed, and Daenerys and Jon said their vows.

"I am his and he is mine, from this day to the end of my days."

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day to the end of my days."

Daenerys and Jon were married. The crowd couldn't help but break out in cheers, and even though the Septon disapproved, Jon smiled and looked to his wife, who was looking up at him, her eyes full of light.  
…

The dining hall was full again, but instead of recovery after the battle, this evening was met with joy and celebration. A grand feast had been prepared, the rationing all approved by Sansa. Musicians played cheerful music, and many people couldn't wait to finish eating before they got up to dance.

Daenerys sat at the head of the table next to Jon, who was flanked by Tormund, Tyrion, and Missandei. Sansa sat at the table over with Brienne, who was feeding Clara soup while Sansa ate. They were both giggling as Tormund continued sending intense glances to Brienne.

"You should go talk to him you know," Sansa said, smiling down at the table.

"My Lady, my apologies, but that would be inappropriate."

"Why?" Sansa pressed.

I am guarding you at the moment, and I don't think that Lady Clara would be too happy if I were to leave her to eat for herself."

"Well the latter is because I've coddled her too much, but Lady Brienne, we're safe. I feel just fine. Now, answer this, do you fancy him?"

"No," Brienne said quietly.

"Lady Brienne, I will remind you it is highly frowned upon to lie to those you serve," Sansa taunted.

"Well, I did find him interesting, and the slightest bit handsome, but it can't happen Lady Sansa, it's unrealistic. I am sworn to serve you, and having a relationship is not acceptable."

"Plenty of knights have relationships, whether they admit it or not," Sansa replied, "your honor will not be dirtied if you have some fun. Now, stop using my baby as a shield, and go say hello. Here, set her in my lap."

Brienne smiled and gently handed Clara to Sansa.

"Thank you my Lady, for the boost of confidence," Brienne whispered.

Sansa felt she had succeeded in her task, and she smiled and shook her head as she offered her daughter a spoonful of soup.

"Someone ought to be having fun, shouldn't they?" She chirped to Clara, who tried to push the spoon to Sansa's face.

"Well, at least you understand the concept of sharing; I must be doing something right."  
…

Dinner was over, and it was clear that Jon had a glassful too much to drink. He laughed at all of Tyrion's terrible jokes, and kept begging his wife to dance with him.

"Jon, I don't know how to dance. I'll just embarrass myself; I don't think these people want to see their Queen tripping on her own feet."

"Dany, look around, no one here knows how to dance. And really, you ride dragons, and you're not coordinated enough to move your feet?"

She wanted to scold him for calling her something so informal in public, but she promised herself she was going to stay relaxed today. Finally she relented to her husband's wishes, and let him lead her to the open space in the hall.

"Relax, just let the music move you," he said, swinging her hands back and forth.

"Oh, so you're a poet now? It is really amazing what a little alcohol will do to a person," she sighed, looking at her babbling husband who she couldn't help but love.

She discovered how fun dancing could be though, especially when no one was watching her. She swayed and clapped and twisted, and felt pure joy in her heart. Jon was amazed at how quickly her demeanor changed without any ale or wine; she went from the stern, stoic queen to a smiling, free dancer. Her hair was already beginning to come out of its braids, but she didn't notice. She kept moving, occasionally taking Jon's hands and letting him spin her around.

She watched the Northerners begin some sort of jig, and after about two minutes, she had learned the steps and joined in. Missandei couldn't convince Grey Worm to dance, but he smiled at her from the table as she joined her Queen on the makeshift dancefloor.

Sansa sat at her table and smiled as she watched everyone enjoying themselves. She giggled when Jon stumbled around Daenerys, trying to find some semblance of rhythm as his wife clapped the beat out for him. Clara had somehow managed to fall asleep despite the noise, and she lay comfortably in Sansa's arms, her hand gripping the chain on her mother's dress. Sansa turned to take her back to her crib, but before she could get up, Tyrion stumbled over and sat beside her.

"You've got a very heavy sleeper there," he said, motioning to Clara.

"Tyrion, you were with us in the crypts, she slept through the entire battle. She only woke up when dawn began to break," Sansa reminded him.

"I try not to think of that night anymore, but I remember wishing I could have done the same," he paused, "you know, I think the last wedding I attended was ours," he said proudly, sipping more wine from his cup.

She began to laugh, but then quickly fell quiet when she realized he wasn't joking.

"Tyrion, don't you remember Joffrey's? That was nearly a year after ours," she said slowly.

"Oh my gods, how could I forget? What a wonderful night!"

Sansa nearly spit out the wine she had been drinking, but then a smile crept to her lips, "we'll just say it wasn't the worst night I've had."

"There it is! I knew you enjoyed it just a little bit! You have a taste for vengeance Lady Stark, it's refreshing."

Sansa shook her head, knowing it was the copious amounts of wine that was causing him to say these things.

"I came here to ask you something. Jon was going to, but he is otherwise occupied."

"I can see that. Well, what is it?"

"While he's away with Daenerys to fight the war, he was wondering if you would continue to serve as Queen in the North. The Queen doesn't know what she's going to do with the North once she has the throne, but she's told me many times she prefers to see you running things while she's deciding. You did an excellent job while Jon was away before, without you I don't know if Winterfell would have been ready to defend itself against the onslaught of the dead."

Sansa's heart sunk for a moment as she remembered that Jon and Daenerys were leaving once again. But she was grateful she'd have such a time consuming job to busy herself with while they were away.

"Well, I would be honored. I was going to ask Daenerys if she would consider granting the North independence, but quite a lot happened between then and now. I figured I'd wait a little longer to ask her properly," she admitted.

"Lady Sansa, if you rule with the same intelligence and grace you did for the time Jon was away, you'd only help your case. Daenerys wants peace and choice for the people, and if an independent North is the way to do it, with a Stark alliance, then she will comply."

"Thank you Tyrion," Sansa said sincerely.

"Now, will you do me the honor of just a dance or two? Do you remember the Southern Waltzes?" he asked.

Sansa called for a maiden to take Clara to her chambers, and she stood up beside Tyrion and smoothed out her dress.

"I may be a bit rusty, but we'll give it a go," she replied.

They twisted and stumbled and laughed. Sansa was surprised she remembered as much as she did, and it felt so freeing just to move. Daenerys saw Sansa dancing with Tyrion, and she smiled proudly as her head rested on Jon's shoulder.

"Look at your sister," she whispered in his ear.

He turned to glance at Sansa, and he beamed.

"Ay, she needed this." He assured.

"You're right. I will be sure to thank Tyrion for this." She concurred.  
...

As things finally died down, Jon and Daenerys began making their way back to their chambers.

"I didn't know Northerners could have so much fun." Daenerys noted.

"Well, when you're stuck inside from the cold, sometimes it's important to keep moving to stay warm. Dancing seems to be the most interesting way to do so."

Daenerys smiled as she shut the door behind them, "I can think of another way," she said, biting her lip.  
…

"Do you know how incredibly happy you make me?" Jon said as he ran his hand down his wife's back.

"I've contemplated it from time to time," she smiled, planting a kiss on his lips.

They were lying naked under the blankets, using each other to keep themselves warm.

"I wanted to show you something," she said, sitting up and lifting the covers off of her.

She took his hand and guided it to her stomach. She placed both her hands on top of his, and waited for him to realize. Suddenly he began to feel it. He circled his hand around her belly, and felt the very slight bump that was beginning to swell. He gasped, and looked at her with tears in his eyes.

"Oh my gods," he said, utterly speechless.

"I know," she whispered, "I saw it this morning. Sansa was trying to get the dress on, and for some reason I ran my hand over my stomach. It's so cold here, I very rarely spend time without clothes on, but I felt it. I gasped, and Sansa was so scared she had poked me, poor thing. But I showed her, and all she said was 'I told you so'."

"Sounds like Sansa," he admitted.

"So this is really going to happen?" he asked, looking up to her face.

"Well, nothing is for certain, but this surely is a very promising sign." She smiled.

"We'll have to think of names for a boy or a girl. Although something tells me it's a boy."

"Really? I was certain it's a girl." Daenerys yawned.

"I'll make you a deal. If it's a boy I name it, and if it's a girl you name it, if you're ever so confident."

Daenerys rolled to face away from Jon in playful frustration.

"I think I know who's growing inside my body. I hope you'll like my name choice."

Jon shook his head with a grin on his face, and wrapped his arm around his wife.

"No matter who it is or what we name it, I will love that child more than anything in this world, and that's a promise."

"Except for me, of course," Daenerys teased quietly.

"Except for you, my Queen, the love of my life," he assured her.

She rolled over to face him, "now stop flattering me and kiss me again," she pouted.

"As my Queen commands," he responded, gently rolling her on top of him.


	8. Good Grief

Notes:

There are a couple of time jumps here, but this is mainly a transitional chapter that resolves some issues and also opens a pretty major conflict for the next part of the story. For the Theonsa lovers, there's a bittersweet scene in here that I really enjoyed writing. thanks for reading!

_The departure of Winterfell, two weeks later_

Sansa was fighting with every fiber in her body to hold herself together. The morning she had been dreading for weeks had finally arrived, and she struggled to dress herself and her daughter as the panic settled in. She stood with Missandei and Brienne in the center of Winterfell, waiting to say goodbye to her friends and family once again.

Arya was the first to come by. She took her sister's shaking hand, and looked into her eyes, which were plagued with worry.

"Sansa, I survived the Night King, and you survived Cersei. I'm going to avenge what she did to our family, and what she did to you. And I'm going to live."

She wrapped her arms around Sansa and held on for a long time. Sansa released, and Arya took Clara's hand, who leaned forward and gave Arya a very drooly kiss on the cheek.

"And you my little lady, don't grow up too fast without me, and don't give your mother too much trouble. That's my job."

Arya turned to her horse, but Sansa stopped her.

"Arya, I love you," she said.

"I love you too Sansa, I love both of you."

With that, Arya fell into line with the soldiers. Jon came by with Daenerys.

"I wish you wouldn't do this," Missandei admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"My dear friend, you know I must. We must fight for the better world we promised. That's why we came here, isn't it?" Daenerys said, trying to comfort her.

She nodded in agreement, and they embraced.

As everyone said their goodbyes, Sam caught Bran staring at him from the corner of his eye. He slowly walked over, and sighed when Bran remained silent.

"I'm going to tell them, I promise."

"In this lifetime? Or the next?" Bran asked stoically.

"I'll be on the ship with them to care for the Queen if anything goes wrong, and I'm sure I will find a good moment that will cause the least damage."

Bran said nothing.

"Bran, if you care so much why haven't you just told him already," he asked in anger.

"I don't really care. I just watch really. That's my job in all of this."

"Oh you really are incredible do you know that?" Sam muttered, walking away from Bran.

Jon watched this strange interaction, but he ignored it and came over to his sister. Jon took Clara from Sansa and lifted her into the air as she squealed with excitement.

"Jon, please don't die. I need you. Clara needs you. Don't get yourself killed doing something noble, I can't lose anyone else." She stressed, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Sansa, I will see you when this battle is over. That's a promise."

"We'll send a raven when it's all over. Relax while you can Lady Sansa, it will be nearly two months before we fight. We will see you soon," Daenerys said as she came over.

Jon settled Clara back into Sansa's arms, and she waved to him with both of her hands, just as he had taught her.

"Bye bye," she muttered as she smiled at Jon.

"Goodbye Lady Clara, I will see you soon. Be good for your mum please," he cooed, winking at Sansa.

Dany and Jon then mounted their horses, and the gates of Winterfell closed behind them. Sansa left with Clara to the Throne Room of Winterfell, where she was to sort out supply rations for her citizens and guests at Winterfell. She was grateful that she had the responsibilities of the entire North to keep her distracted while everyone was away. Ghost stayed by her side, and she reached the top of the steps, with one more glace at the black and white horses that carried Jon and Daenerys away from Winterfell.

…

_Once week later, at sea_

Daenerys was still leaning over the side of the boat when Jon came up to meet her. It was their third day since they set sail from White Harbor, and the sea had not been kind to Dany. She weakly lifted her head over the rail, and smiled at him. He sat on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She wanted to be by herself, but she was too tired to refuse as her head fell against his shoulder. Her stomach had become much more pronounced now, and the extra weight she had to carry was more taxing than she had expected. She still managed to hide her bump with loose gowns and plenty of robes: she still wasn't ready to let the world know.

"The ocean breeze is freezing in the winter. I remember what a relief it was when we set sail for Westeros, and now my face is numb and I've been out here for all of three minutes," she complained.

"Dany, how many times have you vomited today?"

"Well, I don't really know. I lost count after five," she answered timidly.

"This can't be good for you or the baby, maybe we should get off, we can stop at the next port, and take the King's Road back to Winterfell, I could..."

But before he could finish his thought, she brought her finger to his lips,

"Jon, don't be ridiculous, I need to be here. With you, and with the rest of my army. We cannot win this war without the dragons, and I need to ride Drogon to make sure he takes down the weapons meant to kill him and so that he doesn't kill innocent civilians."

Jon shook his head: this was not the first time they had this conversation.

"Daenerys, are you the slightest bit concerned for our child? What happens if you fall off? Or worse…" he closed his eyes, not wanting to imagine the horrors that could occur if something were to go wrong.

She pulled away, and her brows furrowed in frustration,

"Jon, if we lose this war, this child will never be safe. She will spend her whole life terrified that someone is always trying to harm her. She will live in exile, wondering who her parents are and where her real home is. It's not a life I would wish upon anyone, certainly not our baby. I have to fight for us, and for our future. We don't even know if this baby will be born alive, and I'd rather have a secure world no matter the means."

"But you're sick, Dany, you haven't kept anything down in nearly two days,"

"Yes, this is true, but Jon, your baby would be sucking the life out of me no matter where we were, on land or sea."

"Why don't you take this seriously? If there's something that can be done to make you better, shouldn't we try it?"

She could sense that he was getting irritated, but she decided to push back.

"Jon, I am not trying to be funny, but the only thing that would make me feel better would be if I wasn't pregnant, and if I wasn't about to fight another war. But that's why we're here. Now, if my illness bothers you so much, then go to our chambers. I'll come down when I'm better so I don't upset you," she spat.

"Sometimes I don't even know if you want this child!" he yelled.

No one Jon knew could make his blood boil like his wife. He left abruptly and went down to his study, slamming the door behind him.

Daenerys sighed and leaned her head against the side of the ship. She was miserable, and yearned for dry land. She knew Jon just wanted to help, but his overwhelming concern for something she wasn't even sure would survive annoyed her. She heard shuffling, and Varys and Tyrion came to sit on the floor beside her.

"I never thought I'd see Daenerys Stormborn, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, the unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Khalessi of the Green Grass Sea, sitting on the floor of a ship deck in plain sight in her night robe, throwing up over the edge every five minutes," Varys teased.

"Are you done?" she growled.

He didn't answer, and she just sighed, looking down at her hands.

"Jon doesn't think I should be here," she admitted.

"Yes, we heard," Tyrion answered.

"You listened to that whole conversation?" she asked incredulously.

"It was hard not to, you were screaming at each other."

"Fuck," she exclaimed, running her hands through her hair.

"He's just concerned about you your Grace, he's never had the chance at a family before, and he wants to protect you." Tyrion said.

"He expects me to drop everything I've been working towards to tend to this unborn baby who has been faring just fine without my constant attention. I know I can be cold sometimes, but he knows I care."

"Does he?" Varys questioned.

Daenerys blinked; stunned that he questioned her statement.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"Your Grace, you never talk about the child, even when it's just us at meals or meetings. He brings it up, and you push it away like it's the last thing on your mind all of the time. I know there's a war you have to fight, but you're likely to win it, and after that you'll have to face what I'm pretty sure is scaring you more."

Daenerys put her head in her hands,

"I can't think about this baby because I can't stand to lose it," she whispered.

Tyrion and Varys looked to each other with approval, and Tyrion took Dany's hand,

"Tell him that," he advised gently, "at least he'll understand why you're acting so indifferently."

She nodded in agreement, "but it won't convince him any differently about riding Drogon."

"You many have to agree to disagree on that, and you can point fingers when it's over. You'll never agree upon everything, and you need him to understand that this is one of those things," Varys explained.

Daenerys reached her hands out, and they both helped her stand up.

"Thank you, my professional and personal advisors," she grinned.

"Anytime your Grace," Tyrion answered as Varys bowed slightly.

...

_Meanwhile in Winterfell_

Snow was falling hard. Sansa looked up to see the sky darkening rapidly: another storm was coming. She wrapped her scarf around her head and made her way to the main gate of Winterfell. She had planned on going to the Godswood for a moment to herself, but she didn't feel like getting stuck out in a storm after just recovering from a cold. She instead settled on the center of Winterfell to at least get some fresh air. She walked around, observing the people as they went about their daily chores: cleaning out horse stables, chopping firewood, and crafting horseshoes. She was about to turn away from the blacksmiths, when someone called out her name. She turned, it was Gendry.

"Gendry, how are you?" Sansa asked kindly.

"I'm well, my Lady, there's actually something I've been meaning to show you. It's from the Queen."

"Oh really? Well let's see it," she said, following to where he motioned.

She froze when he led her to the corner of the room. It was a crypt statue of Theon, much like the ones of her mother and father that she hadn't visited since the Battle of Winterfell. Her breath hitched, and when she thought she would lose control of it all again, she thought back to what Daenerys said. Clara's face came to her mind, and she inhaled deeply.

Not this time.

"I..I can't…" she stuttered, trying to find the right words to thank Gendry.

"You don't need to say anything, my Lady. She said you needed a way to remember him, so she came and asked me to make this a few weeks before they left."

"It's perfect," she whispered, bringing her hand to the statue.

She closed her eyes, and she felt happy.

Sansa's eyes opened slowly, and her vision slowly came to focus in an unrecognizable room. To her right, she saw Theon holding a small bundle in his arms, he seemed to be talking to it. Sansa slowly came to the realization that he was holding her daughter, and she struggled to remember what she had looked like. She slowly reached her hand out and gripped his arm, and he looked to her in shock.

"Lady Sansa," he said with surprise.

"Theon, where's Jon and Brienne" she asked hoarsely.

"Don't try to speak yet, here, have some water first. We haven't been able to get you to drink anything since last night. They went into the village to get more soup for you, there's only one kind that you've been eating."

She graciously took the water, and sat up slowly against the pillows. Theon watched her carefully, helping her to sit up and placing more pillows under her back for support.

"How long have I been out of it?"

"A week. You'd take food and drink sometimes, and you didn't protest too much when the baby needed to eat, but mostly you would just mumble to yourself. You were very feverish, we didn't think you'd make it," his voice shook.

Sansa looked to the newborn swaddled in blankets, and she leaned over the bed, trying to get a glimpse of her daughter.

"There's someone who's been missing you this past week," he smiled.

Tears welled in her eyes again as Theon placed the baby in her arms. Her hair seemed to be even redder than Sansa remembered it, and her fists were bunched up at her face as she hiccupped quietly.

"She's so beautiful," Sansa said in awe.

"She looks just like you Sansa."

"She's not at all like her father, I thought before she was born I was carrying a little Ramsay, which terrified me each day, but I can see now she's, she's gentle. Her kicks never hurt when she was inside me. I swear Theon, she touched my face right after she was born, and I think she was apologizing for everything. I didn't even want to see her, but my heart melted when I did. She saved me. And Theon, you saved both of us. I could never thank you enough for what you've done for us."

"Lady Sansa, it was the least I could do, you convinced me to fight; if it wasn't for you I would still be there."

She shifted the baby's weight onto one arm, and freed the other one to wrap around Theon. He exhaled, relieved that she had pulled through. She patted the side of the bed, and he sat beside her.

"She needs a name," he reminded her quietly.

"It's Clara," she said without hesitation.

"Clara?"

"I saw it in a history book one, and I've always liked it. It sounds like a mix of Catelyn and Arya, and I want a way to remember my mother, and sister, wherever she may be."

"That's a wonderful name, welcome to the world Lady Clara," Theon repeated.

Sansa rested her head on Theon's shoulder, and they both focused on Clara, who had fallen fast asleep, soothed by the voices she had come to recognize. Sansa looked into Theon's eyes, and he kissed her gently on the forehead. She hadn't remembered the last time she felt so content, but she knew she would happily stay right where she was forever.

...

"Sansa, Sansa!" Gendry worried, shaking her shoulders.

She came back to the present with a startled look, but she smiled.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking of something. Gendry, this is an incredible thing you've done, and I can't thank you enough. I'm so glad that Clara will have this, so that she will know Theon as she grows up. This is the greatest gift anyone could give."

She gave Gendry a brief embrace and turned to head inside. She had held back the panic, and she felt at peace. Daenerys was right, only good memories filled her mind as she climbed the stairs. When she returned to the Throne Room of Winterfell, she grabbed a piece of paper, and began to write Daenerys.


	9. All These Things That I've Done

Notes: Hello! Sorry for leaving you all with a very angsty chapter, this next one has a scene between Jon and Dany that I just loved to write! For the Winterfell storyline, I'm using a historical/medical event that isn't ever mentioned in Westeros as far as I know. It's a little bit strange, but as a lit/bio major, I wanted to add a component that had some significant potential for symbolism, with some rudimentary medicine thrown in there. I also need it to introduce something new in the story a little bit later, but you'll see! Enjoy!

Chapter Text

Winterfell

Sansa ran her hands through her hair as she looked at her schedule. Missandei sat beside her, writing out plans and helping her to prepare for the day. They were about to call a group of farmers into the room to discuss crops when Brienne opened the door. Next to her was the new maester with a concerned look on his face. He was a man of small stature, and he walked to the throne slowly. He was filling in for Sam, and Sansa had yet to meet him.

"Your Grace, we have an emergency, and the Maester didn't know who else to go to," Brienne explained.

"Of course, come in sir," Sansa said, sitting up a little in her chair and crossing her arms.

"Your Grace, we have reports of smallpox coming from the North. One of the stable hands has fallen ill with it here at Winterfell last night, and it's only gotten worse this morning, with at least six more reports of it. It spreads fast; in two days, half of Winterfell could have the disease. We don't have a lot of time," he urged.

"Time? Time to do what? Forgive me, but I didn't think there was anything that could be done to cure smallpox," she said, a chill running down her spine as she remembered the last outbreak when she was much younger.

"Well, traditionally your Grace, you're right. But us maesters, we have found a way to quell the illness. You see, if you take a small amount of cowpox and introduce it to the body, the smallpox is much less severe if you even contract it at all. They did it at Casterly Rock last year, and nearly everyone in the castle survived when the smallpox broke out in the village."

"With all due respect Maester, this sounds absurd. Why would you give yourself a disease when there's a potential to not even catch smallpox?"

"It is very new science, and even we don't fully understand it, but it does work. Your daughter, your Grace, is only twenty months old. If she contracts smallpox, it will kill her. If she is immunized, her chances of survival are significantly better."

"Thank you maester, I think I've heard enough now. Please, go, and I'll call you back when I have made a decision." Sansa said, her voice trembling.

The door shut behind him, and Sansa looked to Missandei, her hand over her heart.

"What should I do? I know smallpox is terrible, but introducing another disease? And Clara, why would he say something like that?" she cried.

"Lady Sansa, I've never heard of this before, but he seemed very confident that it would work. It has to be better than doing nothing. He only used your daughter for emotional appeal; he knows you would do anything for her."

"Of course I would, but I couldn't stand to put her in danger and make her ill for nothing either."

"Wait a day and see if it gets worse, and you can decide then."

Sansa straightened in her chair again when the farmers came in. With the news she had just received, it felt pointless to think about anything else.

...

The boat

Jon felt like a monster. He had screamed at his sick, pregnant wife in front of everyone on the deck of the ship all because she was going ahead with plans they made months ago. He cursed himself and his temper, which seemed to be shortening as the battle drew closer. There was nothing he could say or do that would make it up to her that night, so he left her alone. He didn't go to their room, so instead he fell asleep in the cold, uncomfortable chair in his study, brooding about how he didn't deserve Daenerys Targaryen.

He awoke at dawn to a knock on the door, and Daenerys stepped in, shutting it behind her. He looked to her blankly, and as much as he wanted to make sure she was okay, his stubbornness took over and he turned back around in the chair. She sighed, crossing her hands above her head.

"I talk to her sometimes," she murmured.

Jon turned his head to his wife, "what?"

"The baby, I, well I sometimes just talk to her about whatever comes to my mind. The names I like for her, how stubborn her father is, and how scared I am that I'll lose her," Daenerys said, tears spilling over her eyes for the first time in months.

Jon stood up and walked to her with his arms open. She stood with her back against his chest, her hands wrapped around his forearm for support.

"I'm so sorry," Jon said, swaying her gently, "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, I was terrible."

"No," she protested, "I'm sorry, I know you're scared Jon, I am too. I really am. I've been dealing with this pregnancy by ignoring it, but I didn't realize how that would affect you. I just can't stop thinking about how unfair this all is. I am told I can't have children, and I don't, for years, and suddenly when I have the opportunity to take back what I've been fighting for my entire life, I'm responsible for another life inside of me. We can't wait and let Cersei's armies get stronger, and so I'll have to risk this child's life if any of us are going to survive. It's a terrible situation Jon, but it's our reality."

"Okay, okay," he said, trying to calm her.

"And I know I'm sick, but I started to feel better last night. I came to our room to tell you I'd kept some soup down but you weren't there. I know you've never really seen someone go through a pregnancy in full detail, but being ill is sometimes just a part of it. Trust me that if I thought something was really wrong I'd tell you."

"Of course I trust you. And Dany, I realize that you must ride Drogon. I don't want you too, but I know it's a risk we must take if we're going to win."

"Thank you," she whispered, "Drogon will keep me safe, I promise you."

She turned to look at him, and he kissed her gently on the forehead.

"I did have a question for you, my Queen," he said quietly.

"Anything," she answered quickly.

"If we do win this war,"

"When we win this war," she corrected him.

"Yes, of course, when we win this war, what exactly will I do? I was the King in the North, but if you keep the North independent of course Sansa should rule. She'll want to stay at Winterfell either way. Before that, I was at Castle Black, just a member of the Night's Watch, with a brief stint as Lord Commander. Why am I saying this, you know it all already. My point is, what will I do when you're Queen?"

Dany put a hand on her hip and looked up.

"What do you want, Jon Snow?"

"I want to be with you," he said, twisting her around and pulling her hips as close as he could to his.

She exhaled, and nearly let out a moan as his hands gripped her bottom.

"Jon, if you want me to focus, I need you to," she was interrupted as he kissed her on the lips.

She started to kiss him back, but she pulled away.

"I have a meeting in twenty minutes Jon, I can't do this now," she said breathlessly.

"It's amazing how easy it is to fluster you," he chuckled.

"Well, it's been so long," she paused, "you're terrible, do you know that Jon Snow? Manipulating a pregnant woman with no control of her emotions or desires," she said mockingly.

Never in her life had Daenerys Targaryen apologized, admitted a secret, had a serious conversation, and then tried to have sex within about a half an hour. The impulsiveness and extreme range of feelings pregnancy offered tired her out, and she sat down in Jon's chair.

"To answer your question, you can be anything that you choose really. Another hand, a member of the Queen's Guard, Master of Coin, which I am actually looking for anyway," her voice trailed off.

He cringed at the thought of being the Master of Coin.

"I was never that good with numbers, but I wouldn't mind being another hand; I could always be with you, and I don't have to rule over anyone."

Dany smiled, "that's fine with me, but we must come up with a new title for you, I can't just betray Tyrion like that."

"Could I be her Grace's bedwarmer?"

Daenerys rolled her eyes, "how about my fool?"

...

Sansa sat in her nightgown on her bed, her sleeve rolled up all the way to her shoulder. Clara sat in Missandei's lap, watching the Maester quietly. After they had met with everyone they were scheduled to, Missandei and Sansa decided to visit the maids that had fallen ill with smallpox. What Sansa saw prompted her decision. The poor maid was lying unconscious in bed, her face swollen and her body covered in a terrible rash. She was murmuring incoherently, and her breathing was ragged. The maester whispered in Sansa's ear that he did not expect her to live through the night. Sansa turned from the doorway and the maester followed her down the hall.

"Get the cowpox, however you must, I want my daughter and I to be immunized. Missandei, you too, if you're willing. After us, offer it to everyone here, this is much worse than I remember it."

Sansa closed her eyes when she saw the maester take the knife off of the tray, reminding herself that this was her only chance of survival if she fell ill.

"your Grace, I'm sorry, we'll have to go in pretty deep to ensure that the infection reaches your bloodstream," the maester said quietly, steadying her arm against her chest.

Sansa nodded, "do what you need to, I'll be okay."

She winced as he drew the knife into her skin, and she felt the familiar trickle of blood begin down her arm. She thought she would start to panic, but she took long slow breaths, and looked at Clara and Missandei.

"Please talk to me, about anything" she groaned to Missandei, trying not to slip into another hallucination.

"You're incredibly brave Lady Sansa; I could not have made this decision, or gone first. Uh, they say another storm is coming soon, it is very strange coming from somewhere that never has snow…"

Missandei was cut short when Sansa let out a whimper of pain.

"I'm sorry your Grace, it will only be one more stitch, this is the worst part."

Sansa was sweating, and her head was spinning, but the pain ebbed as the maester wrapped some bandaging across her arm.

"Now just keep this on until I come back to take the stitches out. It will only be a few days, the incision is very small."

Sansa nodded and looked to Missandei. They were both dreading what was coming next. Missandei put Clara into Sansa's lap, and held her arm down by her side. The maester brought the knife to the baby's arm, and Sansa already had tears streaming down her face.

"Remember, your Grace, this is going to save your daughter's life." He encouraged.

Clara's screams rung throughout the hall. Sansa tried to steady her, but it was difficult with only one arm. Thankfully the Maester was even quicker the second time around, and within just a few minutes it was over. Clara didn't stop crying though, and easily blocked out any of Missandei's cries as she went last. Sansa rocked Clara as she strode around the room, and sighed in exhaustion as she looked to Missandei.

"Missandei, would you like to stay here for the night? I don't want to be alone after that, it brought back some bad memories and I…"

"Of course Lady Sansa, I'll stay with you," she interrupted.

Sansa smiled, relieved that she didn't have to explain herself. Clara's cries finally subsided to whimpers, and Sansa wiped the baby's tears and snot away with the sleeve of her good arm.

"I'm so sorry my love, you'll be okay," Sansa said, kissing Clara on both of her cheeks and her forehead.

It took hours, but Sansa finally got Clara to fall asleep. Missandei watched in awe as Sansa patiently breastfed her daughter while pacing back and forth, hushed her as she cried, and not even flinch as drool and sweat and spit up complied on her nightgown. She gently placed Clara in the crib, and grabbed a cloth to clean herself off.

Sansa climbed into her bed, and ran her hands through her hair.

"That was awful," she sighed.

"Is she always like that?" Missandei asked worriedly.

"Oh gods no, she'd usually be fast asleep well before this time. My arm is in terrible pain, and so I can't imagine what she's feeling. But when she was a newborn, she would barely sleep for more than two or three hours at a time. I'll never forget walking around in the darkness with a screaming baby, wishing that she could have just told me what it was that she wanted."

"Daenerys has no idea what's coming," Missandei whispered.

"She'll be okay, I promise. She'll have Jon. He doesn't have any experience, but they'll learn. You get this squirming little bundle and all of a sudden you're willing to do anything for them. I always say I'm a slow learner, but not when it came to Clara." Sansa yawned.

"We should go to sleep now, but Lady Sansa, I am impressed by your strength and bravery. Not many people I know would have done what you did to protect their loved ones. Thank you for taking that risk."

Sansa smiled,

"I've learned over time that taking risks is sometimes the only way to move forward or survive. This was a matter of survival, and I just hope now that I made the right choice."

"I think you did," Missandei answered quietly.

…

Your Grace,

The statue was perfect. I cannot thank you enough for such a thoughtful offering. I take Clara every morning, and I think she enjoys it. Last week, Missandei, Clara, and I were inoculated against smallpox, which has broken out at Winterfell. Many more are being immunized, and my hope is that less people will die or fall ill during this outbreak. We were slightly ill during the week, but we seem to be recovering with no sign of smallpox for any of us. Please send love to Jon, and tell him not to worry about us, though I know he will. Missandei says hello, and I'm sure Clara is wondering where her Aunt and Uncle have disappeared to. We miss you here, and we are thinking of you.

With love,

Sansa Stark

Daenerys looked inquisitively at the paper. She had no idea what an inoculation was, but she figured she'd wait until morning to ask Sam. She placed the letter on the nightstand and blew out the last candle. Jon was sleeping soundly beside her, and she curled up against his chest, praying that everyone at Winterfell was safe.


	10. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

Notes: Hello! I think this is my favorite chapter so far, I've never written a scene like this but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! Thank you for reading!

One month later...

After the final day of military meetings at Dragonstone, Jon and Daenerys were exhausted. The battle would be any day now, as soon as they received a raven from the ground army that they were ready to fight. They walked together to their chambers as dusk settled around the castle. Jon quickly changed into his nightclothes, and Daenerys sat on the edge of the bed while he took out her braids. Once her hair was free she moved behind the dressing curtain to change. Jon watched as the shadow of her gown fell to the floor. Her dresses were now loose and flowing as the baby had grown considerably in just one month, and her body ached as it began to stretch more and more to accommodate. Daenerys was grateful, however; because her nausea had subsided, and everyone relaxed as she began to gain back the weight that she had quickly lost. As she slipped her nightgown over her shoulders, Jon stopped her.

"Dany, come out from behind the curtain," He said gently.

She peaked her head out of the side and squinted.

"Are you spying on me?" She asked playfully.

"Well, I suppose my days might be numbered, so I'd like to see all of you as many times as I can before I go."

She pursed her lips but obliged, and stepped out to face her husband. Every time he saw her naked it felt like the first time. She glowed in the candlelight, and the curve of her belly made his breath catch. Her eyes were gleaming as well, but Jon was fixated on the rise and fall of her chest as she stood nearly motionless. Her hair was wavy and free without its braids, and it covered her breasts. Jon stood up and walked over to Daenerys slowly, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. They locked eyes, and stared into each other. They knew very well these could be some of the last moments they spent together; the thought was heavy in the room.

The silence was deafening. Jon took Daenerys' face in his hands, and she reached up to kiss him. Her fingers ran through his curls, and she sighed into his mouth when his hands cupped her breasts, which had also grown considerably. While he twisted and kneaded at them, she brought her hands to his trousers, untying the lace and pulling them down in a swift, practiced manner. She felt him smile, and he carefully leaned her back onto the bed.

He rushed to take the rest of his clothes off and she helped him, unbuttoning his night shirt without ever losing focus on his face. She ran her delicate fingers over his chest, and he felt chills run down his spine. He pulled away from her kiss and she exhaled in frustration, but he crawled downwards slowly, kissing and sucking at her neck, and she released a moan that excited Jon even more. He kissed her collarbone, her shoulders, and both of her arms. He rested his head on her chest for a moment, and then took her breast into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple. Her back arched up towards him, and she pushed his shoulders downward, begging him to settle between her legs. He refused though, and took her other breast in his mouth, biting a little harder as if to punish her for her impatience.

She let out a small cry and pulled at his hair as he moved further down. He stopped for a moment, looking up to ensure she was okay.

"Jon," she responded breathlessly, "don't stop."

He kissed her stomach, her hips, and he finally made it to knees. She had them held together, but he placed his hands on the inside of her thighs and drew them apart. He smiled, and began to run his fingers up and down the inside of her thighs, never quite making it to where she wanted him. After several minutes of this torture, she gasped when his fingers finally made it. He left her panting, and it took everything in her not to let out a louder cry as she finished, her ankles crossed over Jon's shoulders.

While she was still trembling, Jon lined his hips with hers, and when he was about to enter her for himself, she put a hand on his chest and stopped him.

"You're not going to get as far as you want my love, I'm too big now. Here, let me help you," she said quietly, rolling him on his back to where she had been lying.

He lay back, feeling the warmth of where his wife had just squirmed and twisted beneath him. Dany was on her knees, and she sat up as she straddled his legs and gently slid onto him, exhaling gently.

"It's been a while since I've done this," she teased.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" he questioned.

"Well, I'm with you now, aren't I my love?"

She smiled and started to rock back and forth skillfully, keeping constant contact with her husband's eyes. Jon began to grunt, and the sounds made Dany move faster. She placed her hands on his chest for support, but as he sat up to meet her she wrapped her arms around his neck. She continued to move her hips, but Jon began to thrust as well, and she gasped as he moved even farther into her. She clawed her fingers into his back and suddenly she felt him release, a very loud groan escaping his lips as he finished. She sat there for a moment and admired his beauty, and then she slid off and lay on her side facing Jon, her hand caressing his arm as he ran his fingers up and down the curves of her body.

She rested her head on his chest, trying to get as close to him as possible.

"I want to stay in this bed with you forever," Jon admitted, still out of breath.

"We could just sail off to Essos and be together, I have nearly the entire…" she stopped talking and her hands flew to her stomach as she sat up abruptly.

"What is it? Are you okay, the baby, is it?" Jon studied her up and down, searching frantically for any sign that something was wrong.

"No, Jon, we're okay. The baby, well here, I think it's finally strong enough for you to feel," She said, guiding his hands to her growing bump.

There was nothing for a moment, but then he felt it. A little kick against his hand made him flinch. Then there was another. Tears fell from his eyes as he looked to Daenerys in awe.

"That's our little one in there. He's getting so strong."

Daenerys reached up and kissed his cheeks.

"You must have woken the poor thing up," she chided, blushing ever so slightly.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, moving his hand up and down the swell of her stomach.

"Not really. Right now she's still quite small, I'm surprised she's moving this much."

"Sometimes I forget you've already been pregnant. Does that make it easier?"

"Oh Gods no. My last was so much easier. I didn't have to fight two consecutive wars in three months while carrying a baby. I just had to carry the baby. Plus, I was much younger then, now everything just aches."

"Dany, you're 24."

"Really? I feel much older."

He felt the baby kick again, and he ran his fingertips across her stomach, causing goosebumps to rise across her entire abdomen.

"I think your child likes you Jon, she's following your hands."

"I can't wait to meet whoever is in there," Jon smiled.

Dany slowly laid back down, and Jon rested his head on her breast. She caressed his cheek with her thumb, and wrapped her other arm around his.

"I love you Jon Snow," she exhaled.

"I love you Daenerys Targeryen; I will forever."

There was one last thing in their path to happiness. They had defeated death, and now they just had to defeat Cersei. They slept in each other's arms the whole night. They didn't know how much time they had, but Jon focused on Daenerys' breaths, and Daenerys felt the warmth of Jon's arms around her and the kicks of the baby in her womb, and knew that it was all the motivation she needed to survive the war and bring peace to her and her family's life. She closed her eyes to the sounds of the waves outside of her window, and peace fell upon the entire night as she drifted into sleep.


	11. Rescue

Notes: Hello! I'll admit something here, I don't really know much about battles/how exactly to write them to the caliber that the show did, so I apologize if it's not the most thrilling/wild battle scene. As you all know, I like focusing on character interactions, so there's that too. Enjoy!

The soldiers were in position; the Unsullied with their spears vertical, the Northmen with swords drawn, and the Dothraki with their weapons poised. Facing them was the entire Golden Company, which blocked the entrances to King's Landing by land, with Euron Greyjoy's fleet blocking by sea. They stood eerily still, and Jon couldn't remember any battle he'd been in before starting like this. Jon stood next to Grey Worm at the front of the line, waiting for any signal from Cersei. In exactly three minutes, it would have been an hour since she received the final warning from Daenerys.

The three minutes went by, and the bells rung. Jon breathed a sigh of relief, but it stopped when the Golden Company drew their swords and began charging Daenerys's armies. They were mocking her offer of peace. Grey Worm and Jon shared a panicked glance before they drew their weapons and led the charge against the largest army in the world.  
...

Daenerys rocked slightly as Drogon shifted from atop the perch overlooking the bay of King's Landing, which was filled with enemy ships. Once she heard the bells, she looked cautiously to the city as a spear from the scorpion flew inches from Drogon's head and pierced Rhaegal in the wing. He screamed out in pain, and retreated behind the rocks. Dany lost sight of Rhaegal, but she knew the war had just begun. She lifted Drogon into the air and drove him close to the water so that no spear could hit him as they were positioned atop the ships. In a constant hail of dragon fire, she destroyed the entire fleet in mere minutes. Euron's men hadn't the strength to turn the weapons fast enough, and Drogon was able to dodge the few spears they had managed to fire in his direction. Once she was sure all of the ships were on fire and sinking, Daenerys turned Drogon to face the city. She was appalled with what would come next, but she continued on, hoping for the impossible: Cersei's surrender.  
…

They were losing the battle. The strength and tenacity of the fresh men of the Golden Company far exceeded the weak and weary men who had nearly given their lives to defeat the Night King. Jon looked around, watching men die from every corner and angle. Blood splattered in his face, and he could feel the familiar sense of death, but he continued on. It seemed like hours had gone by, but soldiers kept charging and charging. Suddenly, Jon felt a piercing pain in his chest. He had been stabbed. He slumped to the ground and his head slammed against the road. His hand clenched the top of his chest as he tried to hold together the pieces of skin that had been torn apart. The Golden Knight who had pierced him swung his sword high and Jon tried to lift his arms to protect himself, but it was useless. He closed his eyes, and his last thoughts were of Dany and his child. As Jon accepted this peace, a large weight fell against him. The Golden Knight had fallen forward with Grey Worm's spear through his back. After that, all that Jon could remember was the fire.

Drogon's breath filled the streets, and the entire charge against Daenerys' army was writhing on the ground as they burned. Daenerys knew there were more weapons meant to kill the dragons surrounding the Keep, so she was forced to burn the outskirts instead, trying to avoid as many civilians as she could. After about half of the city had been set aflame, Daenerys landed Drogon on a rooftop and sat for a moment. She was risking her life to give the city another chance at surrender. The remaining men of Cersei's army looked up at the titanic beast, and knew it was over. They dropped their swords, and kneeled. The bells began to ring out again, but this time the soldiers remained motionless. Daenerys blinked steadily, unable to believe that in a split second the battle was over.

"Chain all those that surrender, and kill any of the captains or commanders. Harm no innocent man, woman, or child. Throw the surviving soldiers in the dungeon, just ensure they have water. We have done it, we have won the last war." Daenerys yelled from atop Drogon. She repeated it in three languages so that everyone could understand her.

The reinforcements from Dany's fleet reached shore and began the procession into the city. She had aide prepared for the innocent who were injured in the brief battle. Drogon landed where her makeshift headquarters were being set up, and he carefully helped her to the ground with his wing. She was the center of orders and attention, but all she could think about was finding Jon. As she talked to her army and gave orders, Grey Worm appeared behind her, and relief filled her heart.

"Grey Worm, are you okay?"

"Yes my Queen, I am fine. I'll be overseeing your commands for the army now. Jon Snow was injured during the battle. He's asking for you."

Dany's breath caught, and a sharp pain shot through her body like lightning. She closed her eyes and instinctively placed a hand over her unborn baby.

"How bad is it," she asked.

"He's bleeding a lot."

"Thank you Grey Worm, anyone with concerns can come to you, you're the commander of my armies so they will heed your orders. I need to go to Jon, I'll come back as quickly as I can. Please get some of your best men together to enter the Red Keep and find Cersei or Arya, we don't have much time if she is escaping," she said quickly as she left the tent quarters.

"Of course my Queen."

As Dany was escorted by a group of Unsullied to Jon, her heart froze again.

"Rhaegal," she choked.

The last time she saw him he had been struck by a spear, and was falling towards the rocks. She hadn't time to collect the wounded in her mind, and she suddenly felt an overwhelming panic wash over her. She took deep breaths, and continued walking. She could only help one at a time, and trusted that Drogon would understand that his brother needed him.

They reached Jon, who was lying on a cot in a newly erected tent. He had no shirt on, and was shivering in the cold. Dany ran to him, and sank to her knees beside him when she saw the deep wound in his chest: it was in the exact place as the cut that killed her Khal Drogo.

His eyes were closed, and he was cold when she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He's freezing, why didn't anyone bother to get him a blanket?" she screamed at the attendants in the tent.

"Your Grace, the wound requires sutures, and we wanted to give it a chance to dry a bit before we begin. We'll get him a blanket and his nightclothes right now."

"I want Sam. He can attend to Jon. He's the only one who can touch my husband, do you understand?" She snarled.

The attendants stepped back in fear, but they nodded and sent someone off to find Sam. Daenerys turned back to Jon, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"My love," she whispered as she gently kissed his forehead.

"Dany," he said, reaching out his hand to hold hers.

She couldn't stop herself from crying as Jon could barely keep his eyes open.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again, there were so many of them. But then you were there, with Drogon," He whispered hoarsely.

She caressed his face, and tried to keep her mind from the fate of her first husband as she looked at the familiar angry swelling on his chest. She reminded herself that he was alive, and that Sam would help, and that everything would be okay.

"The fire does tend to help our case," she said, laughing through her tears.

Suddenly, his hand unsteadily reached down to her waist.

"The baby," he murmured, "is he okay?"

She stood up and let him press his head against the curve of her belly and smiled.

"Yes, he's fine. He kicked me relentlessly while I was on Drogon; I think he enjoyed the ride."

"I must be really sick if you're giving up the name game," Jon said, trying to turn to her.

"Don't move too much love, you hit your head pretty hard. And Jon Snow, I would never give up on the game. I'm just letting you win today, that's all," she said, kissing his cheek.  
Sam ducked into the tent.

"Hello your Grace, you wanted my help," he said, bowing to her.

"Yes, Sam, Jon's hurt, but I want you to be the one who attends to him please," she said, not taking her eyes off of Jon.

"Of course your Grace, let's see what we have here," he smiled as Dany shuffled out of his way.

Jon grimaced as Sam cleaned the wound with water, and he looked to Dany who stood apprehensively in the corner.

"It's going to require cauterization and sutures your Grace, but it's quite a painful process. You may want to leave, I don't want to put you in distress, especially with the rather difficult start to your pregnancy."

Jon's eyes locked with Dany's, and she could tell he was pleading with her to stay.

"Thank you for your concern Sam, but I can handle it. I'll stay right here." She said adamantly.

"Very well," Sam sighed.

Sam could tell Daenerys was in pain by just looking at her. Her face was plagued with worry, and he couldn't imagine the stress she was feeling as the entire continent fell under her control. It was silent as Daenerys settled beside Jon and took his hand, and Sam thought this could be the perfect moment to tell them about his parents, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. That piece of information could be the thing that set the Queen over edge, and if she went into early labor and lost her child because of it, Sam would never be able to live with himself. So he kept quiet, and prepared the sutures.

Sam had been right: it was awful. Despite the milk of the poppy, Jon twisted and grimaced in pain when the glowing iron rod was pressed into his wound and as the needle wove in and out of his skin. Dany felt incredibly guilty, and she didn't mind the pain as he squeezed her hand.

"It's alright love, you'll be okay," she promised him.

Jon's eyes were glassy by the end, and he dozed off, his grip loosening on Dany's hand. A chill ran through her body when he went limp, but she was comforted by the rise and fall of his chest.

"It's okay your Grace, it's probably better if he sleeps. He has some significant bruising on his head, and there was substantial blood loss, so it may take a couple of weeks until he feels like himself again."

"Thank you Sam, thank you for saving him."

Sam smiled down at the floor and left the tent. Dany couldn't stand to leave Jon's side, so she stayed by his bed in a chair that a soldier had brought her. Even she was fighting sleep, knowing that she had a lot more to finish up before she rested.

As she was writing her speech to the citizens of King's Landing on a small scribe, Tyrion arrived at the tent.

"Your Grace, I am sorry to bother you, but there's something you need to see."

Dany stood up, moving away from Jon so he wouldn't hear them and wake up.

"What is it?"

"I think it's best if you come see for yourself. We're going to need an executive decision on how to proceed."

When she left the tent, her horse was waiting for her.

"Tyrion, what in seven hells?"

"Just please, come, we're taking a trip to the Red Keep."

Daenerys was speechless. She had refused to sit on the Throne until the citizens were helped and the city was cleaned up. She wanted to refuse him, but Tyrion's voice was grave. So, she was lifted onto the horse and she followed Tyrion throughout the streets of King's Landing. They arrived at the steps to the Red Keep, and Dany stood motionless at the bottom. It was beautiful, and it was a haunting contrast from the ash and ruin that they had just walked through. Two unsullied helped her off the horse as she looked up. After a moment, she clutched the bottom of her bump in one hand to support it, and began the long journey up the stairs.

Luckily, Tyrion knew his way around the Keep. There were soldiers already guarding the path of their Queen. They arrived at the Throne Room, and two of the Unsullied swung open the doors.

Daenerys gasped, and Tyrion nodded in agreement.

"We weren't really sure what to do, so we figured we'd have him wait here," Tyrion admitted.

Jaime Lannister sat, his arms tied behind his back, on the steps to the Iron Throne. Cersei's body lay slightly to the left of him, a dagger wedged in her heart. Blood was still leaving her body, and Jaime's uniform was covered in it.

Daenerys didn't know what to say. Should she thank him, or have him imprisoned for abandoning her armies?

"Ser Jaime, I will be honest, I am quite torn right now. I…"

"Your Grace, if I may stop you, I must tell you something." He was smiling disconcertingly, and Daenerys took a step back.

Suddenly his hands were free: he had untied the rope. Before any of the guards could capture him again, he turned away from them. His left hand moved to his face, and when the body turned around, it was Arya's figure that stood on the steps. The face that was Jaime's fell to the floor.

Daenerys stumbled back, and one of the Unsullied caught her as she slipped backwards.

"Your Grace, please don't pass out. This was the only way for me to kill her. When I got here, Ser Jaime was making his way here to help her escape, I had to kill him to stop them. You gave me a very direct mission, and I carried it through. Does it really matter how I got there?"

Dany blinked.

"Well, we can debate that later, but thank you Arya. You've done it again."

Arya walked over and offered her hand to help Daenerys up. Once she was back on her feet, she walked to the Iron Throne, placing her fingers on it slowly, feeling the smoothness of the metal against her skin. It looked different than how she'd imagined it. As much as she wished to stay and explore her new kingdom, there were people that needed her help. Suddenly, she looked to Tyrion.

"Are you okay Tyrion? I know this was your family, and I understand if you…"

"Your Grace, I won't bother you with such matters. My brother was a traitor, and I always knew that Cersei would be his end. I'm sorry for trusting him; I clearly wouldn't have guided you down that path if I knew his true intentions."

"It's okay Tyrion, I do believe for a time that his intentions were good, but we sometimes underestimate the impact of love. I'm sorry you lost your brother; even I felt some pain when Viserys died."

Tyrion gave a slight nod and walked with his Queen back to the camp. Daenerys decided that her work was done for today. She had laid out clear repair plans, written the speeches she needed, and extinguished all of her greatest threats. Now she needed to rest. It felt like the baby was flipping around inside of her, and she figured that she sooner she got to bed the sooner she could pacify it. She left to return to help move Jon to their temporary quarters. She would find Rhaegal in the morning.


	12. Lay Me Down

Daenerys barely slept all night. She lay in bed beside Jon and he woke her up every couple of hours as he twisted in pain and rolled in and out of consciousness.

Dany had never seen him like this. After every battle they'd fought together, he was always the one who slept soundly the next night and recovered from the fatigue more quickly than anyone she knew. She kept getting up to press cold cloths to his forehead, and would try to keep him still as he grabbed at his wound. To make matters worse, the baby seemed upset too, and kicked her with a strength that was becoming painful instead of annoying.

"You two are going to be the death of me," she whispered to herself as she got up once again to fetch more water.

In the middle of the night, Sam poked his head in their door. Dany was running a cold cloth across Jon's forehead, trying to soothe his headache as he mumbled incoherently.

"Oh thank goodness Sam. He's been up every couple hours, he's complaining about his head and the cold cloths seem to help so I got up to fetch a few more."

Sam ran over and felt Jon's skin, he wasn't feverish anymore. One look and Sam could tell he'd be okay in a few days.

"Your Grace, Jon is going to be okay. His fever is gone, he's just a little muddled from the milk of the poppy, but I assure you he'll be just fine. How long have you been up your Grace?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, I never really went to sleep. I've been up with him all night," she answered, subconsciously running her hand through Jon's hair.

"Your Grace, please let one of my assistants care for him so you can get some sleep. There are plenty of spare rooms for you. You need to rest. You're taking care of more than just Jon you know," he smiled softly.

"No, I swore it was either me or you. Come in the morning Sam, I'll sleep then. If you're alluding to the baby, we're both fine. I promise you I can handle this," she said confidently.

"Okay your Grace, just please be careful. I'll come by in a couple of hours and then you can sleep soundly, I'll stay with him."

"Thank you Sam."

With another dose of milk of the poppy, Jon seemed to fall into a deeper sleep. Dany fell asleep beside him and was awoken by the baby's kicks shortly thereafter. It was still quite dark, but the first signs of dawn were beginning to brush themselves across the horizon. Her first gaze landed upon Jon, who was still sleeping soundly. With a tiny smile, Daenerys carefully lifted the covers and stood up.

She peeled back the bandages on his wound, and sighed in relief: there was less swelling than the night before. This would not turn out like that terrible incident with Drogo all of those years ago.

Daenerys pressed her lips against his forehead.

"I'll be back my love; I've got to go find my son."

There was no time for braids this morning: she needed to return before anyone knew she had gone flying again. She slipped on a new dress and the last pair of pants that fit her, and realized how hard it was to get her boots on without Jon's help. Eventually, she was ready to leave. She knew that Sam would be in within minutes, so she felt okay leaving Jon for just a little while. She left Sam a note saying that she left for a brief meeting with Tyrion. It was no surprise to find Drogon waiting on the dock for her. She walked over to him, stroking his face gently.

"We must find your brother my child, after that I promised I wouldn't ride you until after the baby comes." She said, and he seemed to understand.

He lifted his wing as low as he could, and she began to climb onto his back, aided by Drogon as he carefully lifted her with his wing. When he felt she was ready, he began flying towards the sea.

It didn't take her long to spot the green of Rhaegal's scales on the desolate beaches on the outskirts of King's Landing. Drogon called to him, and to Daenerys's relief, she heard a weak response. They landed near Rhaegal, and Drogon helped Dany dismount safely. Once she was on the ground, she walked over to her son, grimacing as she saw the spear still lodged in his wing.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner Rhaegal, I wasn't sure if we'd ever find you," she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

He cocked his head towards his mother, and stretched towards Dany as she caressed his face.

"Let's get the spear out, Drogon, come here."

Somehow, he understood what she was saying, and with his teeth, he pulled the spear out of his brother's wing. Rhaegal cried out in pain as blood gushed from the wound. Dany turned away, unable to bear seeing the dragon like this. But the bleeding stopped, and Rhaegal calmed himself down. Dany sat down, and Rhaegal carefully lay beside her. Drogon stared at the two, and copied his brother. They sat there for a few minutes, allowing Rhaegal to relax as his wing healed. The dragons closed their eyes, basking happily in the sun. It felt so much warmer than it had yesterday when the sun appeared, so much so that Dany began to sweat in the leather that she wore. After a while, she stood up, and the dragons watched intently.

"We should be getting back, they will start to worry if I'm away too long. Rhaegal, can you fly?"

Rhaegal stood, and tried to get a running start, but the movement caused him too much pain, and he landed again on the beach. A chill ran through Dany: would her dragon ever fly again? She walked over to him, and he curled his good wing around her.

"It's okay; Drogon will return to you with food. And we'll get you off of this beach too; I'll send a ship just for you if I must, although I don't know who would voluntary share the boat with you, my darling boy."

Rhaegal stood back as Drogon took flight with Dany. He knew they'd be back, and he lay on the beach, enjoying the sun's warmth which he hadn't felt since they left Essos.

Daenerys made it past the guards without question, and to her relief, Jon was still sound asleep when she got back to their temporary quarters. Sam was absent, but everything else appeared to be okay. She took her boots off and slipped her nightgown back on. As she slid back under the covers she ran her hands across her bump, trying to calm her baby. Everything seemed to quiet down a little bit, and she gladly closed her eyes as she rested against the pillows. She could hear Drogon's wings as they took flight, and she rested assured that he was on his way to feed Rhaegal.

"Dany, honey?" Jon said quietly.

She shot up from her half sleep and rolled over to look at him.

"Good morning my love," she said quietly, "how are you feeling?"

"Worlds better, still a bit sore though," he added.

She kissed him on the lips and he reciprocated, glad to feel Dany's warmth as she leaned ever so gently on his good side and rested her head on his shoulder. His hand rubbed her baby bump, and he could feel the kicks beneath her skin.

"Wow, the little one's very active this morning," he said quietly.

"Yes, your child hasn't stopped moving for twenty four hours, I don't know what has happened in there," she sighed.

"Are you okay?" he asked sincerely as he looked into her eyes.

"Yes, my love, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

"Sleep Dany, you deserve some rest."

"I love you," she whispered to him as she pulled the covers over her shoulders and rolled onto her side.

"I love you dear," he answered, running his hand up and down her back.

A million thoughts about what was to come next swarmed in her head, but her deep exhaustion took over and Jon could feel her breathing slow as she relaxed. Not twenty minutes later a knock on the door jolted her again out of sleep. It was Tyrion.

"Seven hells, don't they understand you need rest?" Jon said angrily, and Tyrion looked apologetically at the floor.  
Dany rubbed her eyes as she walked to the door to greet him.

"Am I missing something," she yawned.

"Well, Your Grace, we were just wondering if you were still planning on having the meeting this morning, for the speech to the citizens of King's Landing, and for the re-building, and the ravens we need to send to the Lords and Ladies of Westeros so you can schedule the audience with them," he rambled on.

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, turning around to dig for new clothes.

"Your Grace, if you need rest it is completely understandable, we can certainly wait until this afternoon or evening to…"

"No, no, I will be there. This is too important to postpone, we have a lot to do and I should have done more last night. I will be there in one moment, I just need to get dressed," she said, shooing him out of the door.

"Dany, are you sure you want to go now? No one will think anything if you take time to rest. Sam told me you were up all night caring for me, and I love you for that, but you need to take care of yourself and the baby." Jon reminded her gently.

Daenerys flinched as he finished the sentence.

"Jon, remember what I said? I will tell you if something is wrong. Let me get things settled so Tyrion and Varys can work, and then I promise I will spend the next two days in bed with you," she said gently.

"Okay, I trust you."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips as she headed out.

The meeting dragged on for hours. Dany's head was pounding, and while she somehow managed the strength to stay focused during all of the speeches and planning and questions and concerns, she was beginning to cave into the urge to slump forward in her chair. But she had gotten through it, and now they had a solid plan to safely and peacefully transition to Targaryen rule, something that Tyrion had joked sounded like an oxymoron before Dany shot him a death glare.

They got to the end of the meeting, and some of the Lords from King's Landing had more questions, but Tyrion knew they had to wrap it up by the look of the Queen. She was supporting herself with both elbows on the table, and the circles under her eyes were turning black. She was still covered in ash and soot from the battle, and her hair had dark streaks of black in it as well. Her head bobbed up and down as the movements kept jolting her awake. It was torture to keep her here any longer.

"Okay, Lords of King's Landing, and the council, thank you for you diligence here today, but this is where we wrap up. I ask that everyone sees to their tasks as quickly as possible, and any questions can be directed to me or Lord Varys. The Queen will not be holding a council for the remainder of the week as she will be resting. Thank you all."

Dany wanted to protest, but she knew she needed the time off. Each Lord bent the knee as they left the room, and she nodded to them as they departed. It took her a few minutes to realize that everyone was gone, and then she slowly stood up.

As Dany was making her way back to her quarters from the council meeting, the baby kicked her so hard that she had to stop moving and brace herself against the wall.

"Oh gods, please don't…" she stopped midsentence as she hissed in pain.

Suddenly a realization hit her; these weren't kicks, they were contractions. She broke out in a cold sweat and her skin prickled. She wrapped an arm around her bump and slowly slid against the wall onto the floor.

"Your Grace, what's wrong?" Tyrion asked as he ran over and knelt beside her.

"I think, I think I'm in labor," she said, a small sob escaping her throat.

Tyrion's face went white; he didn't know much about pregnancy and birth, but he knew that a baby born this early would certainly die. He scanned around the hallway, and there were already guards running over to pick Daenerys up. She tried to keep her breathing steady and focused on calming herself.

"Please get Maester Sam and Jon, I need them," she said as she rested her head against the guards chest.


	13. Landslide

Daenerys felt the pain ebb and flow as the soldier lowered her onto the bed. She tried to help her maidens as they changed her into a loose nightgown, but she could only lay there, completely frozen. People rushed around the room with panicked movements, but Dany was oblivious to it all. Sam came in and placed the back of his hand against Dany's forehead; it felt a little bit warmer than usual.

"What's happened your Grace?" he asked her gently.

"I think I'm in labor," she repeated, staring at the ceiling.

"Okay, it's going to be okay, let's get you onto your side, that's the best position to lie in from now on, okay?" He said, pressing into her back as she turned.

Daenerys watched Sam carefully as he scanned through the books he had brought in with him, seeming satisfied when he landed on a certain page. He silently mouthed the words as he read, and then he looked to her slowly.

"Okay, well this may be uncomfortable, but I need to check in between your legs to see if you've undergone any, um, changes. That will cue us in on if you are in labor," he said, referencing the book.

Her face went white and she froze again. It had been years since she felt this vulnerable; years since she was a little girl, fragile and alone across the narrow sea. She had changed and built so much since then, but she felt all of her gentle strength coming undone as she lost control over the baby within her own body. It was a terrible idea to become attached to this child, knowing that it wasn't likely to survive in the first place. Now that the risk of losing the baby was getting higher and higher with each passing pain, she could feel the entire reality breaking upon her like ocean waves.

"Can we, can we wait for Jon," she asked uneasily.

"Of course your Grace," Sam answered with a slight smile, shifting from side to side, "you're about six and a half months along Your Grace, if you make it another month and a half then there shouldn't be any complications."

Dany clenched as another pain wrapped around her pelvis, and her tears spilled over when Jon finally appeared in the doorway.

"Dany? What happened?" he asked as he sank to his knees at her side.

"You were right, you were right," she repeated faintly as she reached for his hand, "I'm having contractions."

Jon held her hand tightly and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears. He looked to Sam who was washing his hands in the basin at the foot of the bed.

"Sam, can you handle this?" Jon asked firmly.

"Jon, I will do everything that I can. Are you ready your Grace?" Sam asked gently.

She nodded and gripped Jon's arm as she rolled onto her back once again. She held her eyes shut as Sam examined her, and never lost her hold on Jon's hand. She took deep breaths, waiting for the inevitable news that she was going to lose the baby.

"Well, the good news is that I see no sign that your waters have broken yet, and you've barely opened up. These could be practice contractions, or a sign of stress and exhaustion. Stress will cause labor, so your Grace, you need to stay as calm as possible for the remainder of this pregnancy. I believe if you stay in this bed on your side for a while and drink plenty of water, you should be able to stop labor from progressing."

"But is the baby, is it okay? I haven't felt any movement."

"I see no reason why it shouldn't be for now. You should feel some movement within the next day, but for now, it could just be sleeping."

Dany nodded and Jon smiled as her eyes finally met his. Sam pulled her nightgown back down and helped her once again roll to her side. She drank all of the water that he offered her without complaint, and went back to steady, deep breaths. For nearly thirty minutes, everyone in the room remained quiet, and Daenerys felt no contractions. Sam looked at the clock, and slowly stood up.

"Your Grace, try to get some rest now. I'll come back to check on you in a little while, but I think everyone's going to be okay."

Once everyone was gone, Jon slowly and carefully lowered himself into the bed and pressed his body against her backside. She gently reached for his arm and draped it across her chest, pressing his hand against her heart. She was mindful of his wound, but he didn't seem bothered by the movements. He felt her chest heave, and she began to cry again.

"Hey, what's this now? It's going to be okay Dany, I'm right here, the baby's okay, you're okay," Jon stumbled on his words, trying to comfort her.

"I can't do it Jon," she admitted quietly.

"Do what?" he asked, wiping tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

"I can't rule the Seven Kingdoms, be a mother, a wife, a loyal servant and protector to all of these people by myself. I almost just killed our child trying to manage it all. It's too much, it's too much to do it alone," she repeated, her voice fading.

"Dany, you are not alone, you have Tyrion and Varys and Missandei and Sansa, and me, you have me," he rambled on.

"That's not what I mean," she sniffled.

"What do you mean dear; help me to help you,"

"Jon," she said gravely, "rule with me."

She said it so quietly he wasn't sure that he heard it. They were both silent for a minute, and she continued to speak.

"I sat in that meeting today and it dawned on me that our work has just begun. We have so much to do, so many people to help, so many to convince, laws that we need to change, cities that need to be rebuilt…"

"I know, I know," he said to calm her, "and we will do it all, I promise."

"Together?" she asked timidly.

"Together. I swore to you that I would always serve you, and if you need me at your side to rule with you, then that is where I will be. I love you Daenerys Targaryen, that's a promise."

He waited for her reply, but he was answered with steady breaths and a tiny sigh as she finally fell asleep. Too afraid to wake her, he rested his head on the pillow and buried his head in the smooth curls of her hair. His promise began to form in his mind, and he felt the anxiety settle in when he realized he'd just agreed to be King of the Seven Kingdoms. He'd accepted without even thinking about it, but he took some solace in knowing that he took half of the world's weight off of Daenerys' shoulders and onto his own.  
…

Daenerys slept for nearly sixteen hours. This was the longest she'd been out since Jon had known her. Sam came in frequently to check on her, but he told Jon not to worry. The contractions had stopped completely, and it looked as if everything was going to be okay. Much like Dany had done for Jon, he refused to leave her bedside. She didn't stir once, which frightened Jon despite Sam's comforting words. He would read in the chair by the bed, update Tyrion at the door, pace back and forth at the foot of the bed, and occasionally watch her chest carefully to make sure she was still breathing. His wound was causing him incredible amounts of pain, but he ignored it. When she finally began to wake up, she felt a strange warmth at her feet, and she looked down to find Jon sleeping at the bottom of the bed.

"Jon," she asked, her voice surprisingly hoarse.

He didn't stir at all, and Daenerys couldn't help but smile when he sighed heavily in his sleep. She shook her head and gently bounced her foot up and down, startling him quickly out of his slumber.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know how else to wake you," she said with the slightest shine from her eyes.

"Don't apologize," he said as he slowly rose, "here, drink this water."

She drank the entire glass and he took it, settling it back on the table.

"I had this made for you," he said, bringing over small bowl of her favorite soup.

"Jon, I'm too afraid to move from my side. Sam said I should stay in this position to stop any contractions, I don't want to risk anything."

"Dany, you haven't had a contraction in over fifteen hours. I felt you tighten once more after you feel asleep, but there have been no more. Sam said you could move about once you awoke, but nothing more than a quick walk to the latrine or just to stretch your legs. He wants you on bed-rest for at least a week, possibly longer depending on how things go."

Daenerys nodded and rubbed the quickly growing swell of her stomach lovingly,

"Of course, whatever it takes to get this baby here safely."

He handed her the soup and walked over to open the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" she asked nervously.

"I have a surprise for you, just wait here one moment," he said as he quickly ducked out.

"It's not like I have anywhere to go," she muttered, tasting the soup.

He was back in only a few minutes and he offered his hand to help her stand up.

"I think you will enjoy this very much, I've had the hallways cleared so you can travel in your nightgown" Jon said with a gleam in his eye.

"I'm sure I will, but first we need to stop at the latrine. Sam made me drink a lot of water," she joked.

He hooked an arm around her waist and slowly but surely they made their way into the hallway.

With every step she took Dany was nervous the pains would come crashing back to her, but all she could feel were the much more docile flutters of the life inside her. She marveled at how gentle and patient Jon was with her reluctant steps, yet it did not surprise her. She smiled at him meekly, and they continued at their slow and steady pace.  
After the latrine, Dany was surprised when he started leading her deeper into the Red Keep.

"Jon, where are we?"

"Shh, you'll see, just keep walking."

She sighed, looking around at the immensity of the castle.

They reached an unfamiliar room, and he smirked at her before laying his hand on the doorknob.

"Close your eyes," he teased.

"Jon, I'm not 12," she replied, the flare once again returning to her voice.

"Just close them woman!" He exhaled.

She suppressed a laugh and held her eyes shut. She heard the door open and he gently herded her into the room. Before she had the chance to open her eyes, the lovely aroma hit her. The room smelled of wildflowers: lavender, roses, and lilies. She slowly opened her eyes to see a room dimly lit with candles, and in the center a large bathtub that was still steaming from being filled. It looked so appealing that she almost salivated.

"Did Sam say?" her voice trailed off.

"He said it was perfectly safe, in fact, encouraged, to get you to calm your nerves a bit," Jon said, kissing the top of her head.

"This is perfect, now disrobe me my King," she demanded.

"As my Queen commands," he retorted.

She raised her arms, and he carefully lifted the nightgown off of her body. She shivered, but he led her to the tub and lifted her into the steaming water before she could get too cold, trying to hide his grimace from the pain his shoulder caused. She looked at him with concern, but he dismissed it with a kind smile. Dany moaned as she settled into the water, and Jon chuckled at her very expressive reaction.

"You were right," she whispered, "this is the best surprise you've ever given me."

Jon only laughed harder, and she closed her eyes as he began to run a cloth over her skin. The soap smelled of flowers too, and for some reason Dany thought of Sansa. Jon carefully cleaned every inch of her, and her heart swelled at the gentleness of his touch. Dany watched him carefully; so many times she had felt him inside of her, and he had seen all of her more times than she could count, but this felt different. He was touching, feeling all of her, her imperfections, curves, bumps, all out of pure love. She quickly wiped tears away from her eyes, but not before he could notice.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you know how unbelievably beautiful you are?"

Jon blinked at her, and moved to begin washing her hair.

"Are you feeling okay Dany?" he teased.

"Jon, I mean it. I've known so many men in my life, and I know for a fact that none of them would do this for their wives. I've never had someone who has, has loved me the way you do, gods Jon I love you so much that it scares me," she whispered.

"Oh Dany," he said sympathetically, kissing her cheek, "I'm not a poet, but you do know that I love you too, right? After I was stabbed, I told the witch that brought me back that she should have left me dead. I believed in that statement, until I met you. She may have brought me back to life, but you made me want to live again. Gods, I sound like an idiot. But I love you Dany, with all of my heart."

She turned to him, and he kissed her passionately on the lips. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair once again, a movement synonymous with home.


	14. Home

"Dany, be honest with me, what did you think today? You were painfully quiet the entire time we were out there."

Daenerys carefully swallowed her food, took another bite, and then took a long drink of water. Jon, Tyrion and Varys looked at her with great concern.

"I fucking hated it."

Jon blinked for a second, and they both broke out in laughter. Tyrion and Varys exchanged nervous glances as Jon and Dany gasped for air.

"Stop, stop, it hurts!" Daenerys chuckled, clutching her stomach.

Daenerys had stayed in her quarters for two weeks after the scare, and since then there had been no problems, except for the fact that she was painfully bored. Tyrion would come in every afternoon to debrief and to get her say on pressing issues, but other than that she sat in bed and read books about politics or the history of Westeros. Her soldiers had travelled to where she'd seen Rhaegal and while he was well fed and seemed to be happy in the sunlight roaming the beach; he had not yet been seen in flight with his brother.

After these two monotonous weeks, Jon had suggested that he and Daenerys take a tour of the Red Keep and some parts of King's Landing, and Sam had approved. Daenerys had been excited to get out and explore the city, but to her dismay, it was rather terrible.

"All I could think is how unhappy I would be here for my whole life. The air was stale, the streets were overcrowded, and I could feel them everywhere."

"Who? Is there some secret enemy I don't know about?" Varys asked, pressing his hands together.

"No, it's not anything like that, just the ghosts of the past. The Baratheons, Lannisters, there were sigils and artwork everywhere. We need something new. Imagine when spring comes and it becomes unbearably hot. We'll have small children crawling all over us, all of the kingdom's problems to deal with, and Lords and Wardens requesting audiences every day in the Throne Room or the Dragon Pit. We'll be miserable here, absolutely miserable. I'd much rather do that all from a place where we can at least breathe."

"I can't say I disagree with you. But Dany, isn't it where we have to be? It's the capital," Jon advised.

"Jon, we rule the Seven Kingdoms, if we don't like the capital, we can change it."

"Where is our home then?" he pressed.

"Oh Jon," she cooed, "it's Dragonstone. And before you protest, just listen. It's where we met, it's the first place in Westeros I saw, and it's where my family is from. The dragons can roam free there, and we are in the middle of the continent so we can be here in King's Landing or up at Winterfell rather quickly. We can debate this further if you'd like, but I certainly will not give birth here."

Tyrion spit out the wine that he was already drinking.

"Your Grace," he said, moving closer to where she sat, "shouldn't you want to wait here for the child to come before you travel to wherever you decide to call home? It would be two weeks to get to Dragonstone, and the baby could come early. There aren't nearly as many skilled maesters and midwives at Dragonstone, it will be safer for both of you here."

Dany paused in thought, and then she began again.

"I have thought about the risks too Tyrion, but in all honesty, I want to have the baby at Winterfell."

Jon's gaze shot from the floor into her eyes in surprise. She smiled gently and took his hand.

"I want Missandei and Sansa there with me, and I've spent the most time at Winterfell. Plus, Jon, it's your home too, I think it's fitting. It's only about four weeks by boat, and I could stay there for a few months resting after the baby is born. Then we'll go to Dragonstone, and we'll stay. Ravens and dragons both travel fast, and I've gotten quite good at ruling from anywhere, so I really don't see a problem here. Maybe it's not the most conventional, but it's what I want."

"What if the baby comes early? What if you're on the boat?" Varys asked cautiously.

"Well, then I guess I'll have the baby on the boat. Sam will be there, he's read every book that's out there on the subject and assisted in multiple births, so I'll be in good hands no matter where we go."

"Are you sure this is what you want Daenerys? The last time you did too much you nearly went into labor."

"I know Jon, I've thought about this a lot, but this is what I want. I trust my instinct; this is the right thing to do. I know it. The coronation is in two days, and we can leave immediately after. Trust me, there will be enough time."

"I trust you Dany, but can we please talk to Sam about the risks before we make any final decisions?"

"Of course, I'll call him in tomorrow, I'm seeing a couple of citizens tomorrow for the first time, I'll add him to the list, and I'll make sure you're there."

Tyrion and Varys left together, both perplexed and stunned.

"I did not realize how different things would be with her in charge," Varys whispered.

"Well, we wanted different, something strong enough to break the wheel. I don't mean to put the cart before the horse Lord Varys, but I believe she's already crushed it."

…

2 days later

Daenerys sat in her drawing room as her handmaidens moved around her in a calm manner. One sat just behind her, looping her silver hair into intricate braids. She was wearing just a robe, waiting for another maiden to return with her coronation dress. She heard a knock on the door which she knew would be the girl with the dress, but she was surprised to find Jon there instead. The maids gasped at his improperness for seeing her undressed, but she shot them cold glances and they returned to their jobs.

"My love, is everything okay?" She asked.

"Yes, of course dear, there was something that Sansa gave to Tyrion for you when the war was over. It arrived when we were at Dragonstone, and he's very skillfully kept it secret. She made him promise to wait until your Coronation, and she swore it was something good." Jon said smiling.

"Well, let's open it I suppose," she said.

Daenerys gasped as she pulled the gorgeous fabric out. It was her coronation dress.

It was a light blue gown made of silk that stretched at the waistline and flowed out to the bottom. The insides were lined with light fur, and it had loose sleeves that mimicked the train of the dress. Dragons were carefully embroidered into the sleeves and on the fabric that would cover her chest, and Daenerys smiled nostalgically as she remembered the favorite detail of her wedding dress. As she laid the dress out across her lap, a note fell from the bottom. Jon quickly picked it up and handed it to Dany.

Your Grace,

If you receive this gift at the right time, it meant Tyrion could keep a secret, and that all of Westeros will be calling you Queen. I knew you'd win; otherwise I wouldn't have spent nearly as much time as I have creating such a painstakingly beautiful dress. You're probably near or slightly past the halfway mark of your pregnancy, and I made the dress with that in mind. I hope you're feeling okay and that the nausea has passed, but pretty soon you won't be able to see your feet or sit up by yourself, and you'll be wishing for the days of morning sickness. We are sending all of our love and support from the North, and we hope you'll be back soon to visit. Oh, please tell Jon that Clara is starting to string together some words; her favorite combination being "Ghost, with me please." He might need to find a new direwolf.

With love,

Sansa Stark

"Jon, I've never had a sister, but I can't imagine one better than Sansa Stark." Dany said as she began to cry.

"Aw, Dany don't cry dear, we're going back to her soon, we're going back" he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

"It's the damn baby, I swear all I do is cry," she laughed with the twinkle in her eye that could always melt Jon. He kissed her on the lips and he could feel her smile against him.

Once the dress was on and her hair was completed, Jon helped her stand up and she glanced at herself in the mirror. She thought back to her days in Pentos, with her brother, with Khal Drogo, with Jorah, with Daario, and everyone else who she'd lost or given up along the way. Tears swelled in her eyes, but she felt content. She could see the tough, gentle queen that she had created, she could see the girl who overcame the world to rule it, and she could see the life that she had created with Jon. The baby shifted as if to assure her, and she smiled as she put a hand on her stomach. She thanked her maids and took a step out of the doorway.

"Are you ready?" Grey Worm asked as he stood beside the door to let her out.

Dany took a deep breath, "Yes."

…

The procession to the Red Keep was a long blur of events for Daenerys. She could sense the Queen's Guard around her, and she heard the cheers of the citizens, calling her their savior, the Dragon Queen, and the Chosen Queen. She couldn't believe this was real: she'd spent her life trying to regain what had been stolen, and now she had the responsibility of the entire world on her shoulders. She sat on the Throne, feeling the steel weight of the swords underneath her fingers. The crown was slowly lowered onto her head. It was heavier than she had imagined it.

As Jon's crown was lowered onto his head, there were gasps and a rise in the audience. Dany looked around, but couldn't find any source of commotion from where she sat. A guard knelt at her side.

"Your Grace, I think you will be pleased to know that the people are shocked because they thought you only had one dragon. Rhaegal has taken flight with Drogon, they appear to be going in search of food together."

Daenerys smiled and tears filled her eyes yet again. She looked straight ahead and lifted her chin as she scanned the crowds of people she now ruled over. She had come here to free and protect them, and that is what she would do. Now, all three of her children, the two roaming the sky, and the one safely nestled inside her, were all happy. She smiled at Jon, and reveled in the fact that for just this moment, everything was perfect.


	15. The Run and Go

4 weeks later

Sansa awoke to frantic knocking at her door. She bolted upright and glanced around the room in a panic. Clara was still sound asleep still in her crib, so Sansa tried to calm the pounding in her own chest. She cracked open the door to see Brienne looking anxious.

"What could have possibly happened that required scaring me half to death," Sansa snapped.

"They're here my lady!" Brienne exclaimed.

"What?" Sansa yelled, causing Clara to stir.

"They've just opened the gates, they say the King and Queen will be arriving in about ten minutes."

"I can't believe they made it back, Daenerys is alright?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, the guards at the front of the line said she's doing very well, everything appears to be okay."

"Thank you Lady Brienne, we'll be out in a minute."

She shut the door and turned to see Clara sitting up in the dark, her blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and her frizzy hair making shadows in the candlelight.

"They're home Clara, Uncle Jon is here!"

Clara just yawned and watched as Sansa frantically got dressed and braided just two strands of her hair back. She picked Clara up and wrapped her in one of her fur blankets.

"I think they'll be okay if I bring you out in your night clothes just this once," she grinned, rushing out the door.

Clara's bounced up and down as Sansa ran to the gates of Winterfell. The sun was beginning to rise, and Sansa could make out guards helping a very pregnant Daenerys off of her horse. Sansa kept running, and she could just make out Dany's smile when she approached the horse.

"Your Grace, you're huge!" Sansa said, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock at what she had just blurted out.

Daenerys just chuckled and pulled Sansa into a big embrace, Clara and Dany's bump mushed between them.

"I know, I kept apologizing to the poor horse the entire way here, I do feel quite heavy," Dany laughed, her smile illuminating her entire face.

Clara seemed to remember the Dragon Queen, and she gently ran a strand of her silver hair through her tiny hands.

"Hello there Lady Clara, your uncle is very eager to see you," Dany smiled.

"Yes he is," came a voice behind Sansa.

Sansa turned around to see Jon, and she closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Seven hells, please don't come up from behind me like that Jon," she said breathlessly.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry, I didn't think," he stuttered.

"It's okay, it's just been a rough morning" she smiled, wrapping her arm around him.

Clara squealed in excitement when she saw him, and Jon took her from Sansa, spinning her in circles while she giggled uncontrollably.

"And you little lady, I heard you stole my direwolf!"

"Ghost is my friend," Clara said very seriously.

Jon stopped in his tracks and looked at Sansa, who just shrugged.

"I didn't know she could speak so well," Jon muttered.

"She only knows phrases, the ones she deems important. She feels very strongly that everyone should know Ghost is hers."

"She's a feisty one," he said, kissing her gently on the forehead as she nuzzled her head into his neck.

"I wonder where she gets that from," Dany said, squeezing Sansa's hand and grinning.

"Well, how do you feel Daenerys," Sansa said, gently resting a hand on her bump.

"Honestly, I just feel tired, I'm ready for the little one to be here," she admitted.

"You're almost there, based on your, um, size, I would say a week or two at most," Sansa advised.

"Maybe you'll get lucky and the baby will come a few days early," Missandei smiled, walking over to Daenerys.

Dany gasped and began to weep when Missandei pulled her into an embrace.

"My dearest friend, how are you?"

"I'm well, although I've missed you terribly."

They held each other for a while, and Daenerys brought Missandei's hand down to her bump, where they both smiled at the kicks that were now apparent through the thick layer of furs.

"Well, I say our reunion calls for a breakfast feast, I am starving," Jon declared.

Dany stuck out her hand for Missandei, and they walked into the Great Hall together.

"We have a lot to catch up on," Dany smiled as they left the cold winter air.  
…

The feast was noisy and rambunctious, just like Dany had remembered those from months ago. She sat between Jon and Missandei, and across from Sansa, talking about everything they'd faced in the last several months.

"I'm amazed you took that risk, not many people that I know would have done that," Daenerys said to Sansa.

"Well, I was hesitant at first, but when I saw what the illness was doing, I thought that any chance we had would be better than leaving it to the Gods, so I got the maester and we did it."

"Sansa, this isn't a light matter, you saved Winterfell and the surrounding villages from uncountable losses. It's an incredible accomplishment."

Sansa looked down and smiled, and Jon looked to Dany, who nodded and put her hand on his arm.

"We have a proposition for you," he said quietly.

She looked at them, and raised her eyebrows when they both smiled at each other. Daenerys cleared her throat.

"We want the North to remain independent, and we want you to rule it. You've done better than any ruler in recent years. You have created growth in the villages, the people are happy, there's food to eat, you are well protected; you're doing it perfectly."

Sansa couldn't find the words to say, so she just nodded and kissed Dany and Jon on both cheeks.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, "thank you."

"I want what is best for the people, and I know that this is the answer. We will have an excellent alliance as well," Dany winked.

They enjoyed the rest of the breakfast while fighting about the gender of Daenerys and Jon's baby, discussing the names they liked, and betting upon when it would be born. Daenerys rolled her eyes at their trivial guesses and bets, but she was glad to see everyone having fun. After a couple of hours it quieted down, and Dany, Jon and Sansa sat alone at the table.

Jon still had food left on his plate, and Dany stared at it from the corner of her eye.

"Jon, are you going to finish your plate?" she asked.

"What, oh well, um, not if you want it," he stuttered, remembering that the last time he didn't share had ended in tears.

She smiled graciously and switched their plates out, while Jon looked to Sansa helplessly. Sansa winked at him and offered a small thumbs up before Dany could see it.

"I had one more question to ask you," Sansa said shyly.

"Of course, what is it?" Jon said.

"Would you like to watch Clara for a couple of hours tonight?"

"What for? Don't you have handmaidens to watch her?" Jon asked, confused.

"Well yes, of course, but I just thought you might want to spend some time with her and get some experience, with your baby on the way any day now," she teased.

"I don't know if that's best for Daenerys, she needs to rest," Jon debated.

"Nonsense," Dany interjected, "Clara's really good, and it will be fun. I'll sit, and Jon can chase after her."

Jon smiled at Sansa, "alright, fine, if you think we are that unprepared."

"Oh I don't think it Jon, I know it. No one's prepared, but maybe this will make you feel better," she said gently.

"Well, where are you going tonight that's so special?" Dany joked.

"Oh, I just wanted some alone time, it's hard being Queen," she smiled.

"Tell me about it," Dany huffed, taking an uneaten piece of bread off of Sansa's plate.

"You weren't going to eat that, were you?" she said, her mouth full.

"No, it's all yours, better the baby eat it than me."

…  
Later that evening, Sansa dropped Clara off at Jon and Dany's quarters and quickly left. Clara was very antsy, and Jon and Dany were perplexed, having no idea what to do with her.

"Why don't we go for a little walk outside, I could use some fresh air," she offered.

"Of course, that's a great idea," he encouraged.

He took both of Dany's hands to help her stand up and then quickly caught Clara, who was already trying to climb the vanity by the window.

"How does Sansa do this alone," he asked, exasperated as Clara wriggled in his arms.

"I do not know," Dany said, resting her hand on the curve of her stomach.

They walked outside, where it was starting to snow lightly. Clara held on tightly to Jon's hand, excited by the challenge to keep up with his wide strides.

"I almost missed the snow, just a little bit," Daenerys said, watching the flurries dance to the ground.

"Me too," he agreed.

Clara quickly tired from the long walk, and both Jon and Daenerys were relieved. They made their way to the Godswood, but Dany stopped in her tracks when she saw someone sitting on the stump of one of the trees.

"Jon, who is that?" she said quietly.

"It's, it's Sansa," he said, seeing the red in her hair shining in the glow of a candle-light.

"Well, we should leave her alone, she said she wanted time to herself tonight," Dany said, placing a hand on his forearm.

As he was about to turn around, he heard scrambling in the bushes, and another figure appeared in the darkness. His eyes widened as he saw Sansa stand up to kiss the person that had appeared next to her. Jon was about to lunge forward, but Dany held him back. He lost grip of Clara's hand, and she lost her balance, falling face down in the snow. Dany gasped, and Jon quickly scooped her up. She seemed startled, and then her face contorted and she started to cry.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, brushing snow out of his niece's face.

"Jon, we need to go back inside," Dany urged him.

As they walked back inside, Clara continued to cry and reached her hands out for Daenerys, which surprised them both.

"Here, I'll take her, she's probably done with you for the evening," Dany said.

"Are you sure you can carry her, she's getting pretty heavy."

"It's okay Jon; if she'll be quiet I'll take that over anything."

Jon conceded and Dany took Clara, rocking her gently and cooing in her ear to calm her down. Eventually she fell quiet, and nuzzled her head against the fur of Dany's dress. When they got back inside, Daenerys slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to balance her bump and the toddler in her arms.

"I just don't understand, she's not ready Dany!" Jon said, pacing back and forth by the door.

"Shh, Jon, she's trying to go to sleep."

"Sorry, but what am I going to do? After Ramsay, I didn't think she'd ever,"

"What? Be open to a relationship? It's been over two years Jon, and maybe she's ready to try again. She's an adult, she can make her own decisions. I won't lie, I'm surprised, but we can't say when she is or isn't ready because neither of us have been in her position. Could you tell who it was?"

"No, it was too dark, and then Clara fell. Oh gods Dany, I just want to protect her," he admitted quietly.

"I know you do," she stroked Clara's cheek gently as her eyelids fluttered shut, "and you can protect her, but you have to build trust. Talk to her if you want to, but don't be mad, and don't pry."

Jon sat next to Dany, and put his head on her shoulder. She turned and kissed him on the top of the head.

"You're going to be a great mother," he whispered.

"And you are going to be a great father, but if you ever drop our child in the snow, I'll have to kill you."

"I feel so terrible. Thank the gods Sansa didn't see it, I'd be dead."

Dany laughed, and they talked for a little while longer until they heard a knock on the door. Jon stiffened, and then he slowly opened it. Sansa stood in the doorway, a big smile on her face.

"Well, good evening brother, how did it go?"

"It was quite enjoyable. Clara had fun, didn't she Dany?"

Dany looked up, smiled, and nodded, "why yes she did, she's quite a rambunctious one, isn't she?"

"You two are acting strange, is everything alright?" Sansa said, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, everything is wonderful. Dany is feeling quite tired, so we're gonna get to bed, if that's okay with you," Jon said, taking Clara from Dany and plopping her into Sansa's arms.

"Oh, well yes of course, get your rest now, you will need it," Sansa warned.

They waved her off and shut the door to their quarters.

"I don't think she saw us out there," Jon said, relieved.

"Well she's going to know something is up if you talk to her like that Jon!" Dany exclaimed.

"I know, I know, I've got to figure out how to deal with this," he said as he sat down on the windowsill.

"Seven hells Jon, will you stop brooding and come help me get undressed, I can't even turn anymore," she whined.

"Yes dear, I'm sorry."

He undid her braids and unknotted her dress, and shortly afterwards they were both dozing off to sleep. Jon was thinking about Sansa, and he was interrupted when Daenerys rolled over and traced her hands up and down his chest.

"Is everything alright?" he yawned.

"I need to have sex," she almost cried.

"What?" he said, rolling over to face her.

"You heard me, in a few days, this baby is going to come, and we won't be able to do anything for so long. Please, I need you now," she whimpered.

Jon just blinked: this had certainly been the craziest day he'd had in months.

"Well, it doesn't exactly make it easy when you're crying dear," he said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, "I'm just tired and nervous and I want, I want you," she whispered.

Jon smiled at her and cradled her head in his hands. He was surprised at her request, as she had not been extremely affectionate during the last stage of her pregnancy, and it had been a few weeks since they had even made love. Jon was afraid to ask her, as he knew that she was becoming extremely uncomfortable and hated the way she looked. He didn't want to pressure her into anything she wasn't comfortable with. Now that she seemed to want him, he was extremely gentle, and Dany did what she could to get as close to him as possible. He helped her lift her nightgown over her head, and he pulled the covers off of them.

"Don't look at me," she whispered, "I'm ugly right now."

Jon shook his head and rolled her back onto her side. He kissed her stomach over and over while massaging her back.

"Dany, you look perfect. You are the most beautiful pregnant woman there ever was."

She laughed at his attempt to sound poetic, and stroked his hair.

"You love my hair, don't you," he finally noticed.

"Yes, I do, and if you ever cut it, I will annul this marriage,"

"Goodness, you are feisty tonight," he said, sitting up in between her legs.

"Jon, your window is closing," she warned.

He got the message and quickly helped Dany sit up. He lay back, and she attempted to straddle him, but to their disappointment, she couldn't quite fit. Before she could get too frustrated, Jon sat up, and pressed their foreheads together.

"It's okay, we'll do it another way," he soothed.

He got off of the bed, pulled her hips to the edge of the bed, and spread her legs, but before he did anything he noticed that she had stiffened.

"Dany, dear, we don't have to, we will have plenty of time a little while after the baby comes, in a position where you're more comfortable" he assured, rubbing her calves.

"No, no, I'm okay," she interrupted.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, just be gentle, please."

And he was. Daenerys had hated this position because she couldn't really move, but she felt Jon's gentle hands intertwined in hers, and he moved so slowly and passionately she almost wanted to beg him to go faster. He continuously asked if she was okay, and she consistently reassured him. He brought one hand down between her legs, and she moaned and hissed as he skillfully moved in ways that had taken months to perfect. When they had both finished, he wrapped her in his arms, and she leaned back against him.

"Are you ready," he said, watching and feeling as the baby's foot stretched out from Dany's stomach.

"Clearly this one is, there must not be much room left in there," she yawned as she watched and felt the strong kicks along with Jon.

Jon laughed, and was about to ask if it hurt, but her eyes fell shut and her head lolled to the side. Jon held her close to him, and carefully covered her in three layers of fur and sheets. Now, he ran her hair through his hands, and thought about their child. He would never admit it to Dany, but he also wished that it would be a girl. He had spent the day trying to keep up after Sansa, Clara, and Daenerys, so really, what was one more?


	16. Afraid

"And so, if you do decide you want to try and ride a dragon, you'll have to get your mother to help you with that. Swords and fighting, that's my specialty, but anything with ruling, or your dragon siblings, refer to the Queen."

Dany slowly opened her eyes and saw Jon's hands resting on her stomach. He was sitting cross-legged at her waist, and appeared to be talking to someone.

"Jon, what in seven hells?" she asked, straining her neck to look at him.

"Good morning dear, I just couldn't sleep, so I just decided to talk to the baby. Sorry, it's strange."

"No, it's not Jon, it's sweet. I told you I talk to the baby too sometimes. What were you talking about?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if he will be more interested in dragon riding or sword-fighting when he grows up, but he didn't seem very talkative this morning."

"Well, no one's kicking in there, maybe the little one is sleeping," Dany said, her face contorting in pain as she tried to sit up.

"Are you alright dear?" Jon said, placing his hand on her arm.

"Fine, everything's just sore now, I guess it will be that way until she gets here."

Jon pressed his fingers into her lower back, where he knew it hurt the most. He kneaded her hips, her legs, and then her back again, paying extra attention to her breathing, which would calm when he was at the right spot. The muscles in his hands were begging him to stop, but he continued massaging her, motivated by the serenity in Daenerys' face.

"Oh Jon, that feels amazing, but you can stop if you want, your hands must be tired," she sighed after a while.

"You don't get to stop carrying the baby, so I won't stop until you feel better," he reassured her.

Dany's heart swooned, and she relaxed her head against the pillow. She could feel the baby shifting within her, and she knew it was almost time. After a little while longer, Jon lay behind her and wrapped his arms around her, and she was grateful for the touches and attention.

"I have a council meeting today," she said quietly, "but I just want to stay in bed."

"Well, I could go sit in for you, I don't mind, you deserve all the rest you want," he coddled.

"No no, you've run them for the past three days; I need to pick up some slack. You deserve some time off to, my King," she smiled.

"Okay, but promise me you will sit the whole time, and if you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable you will tell Missandei and you will come back here to lay down," he repeated.

"Yes, Jon, of course."

"Okay," he kissed her on the cheek and hooked his arms under hers to sit her up.

"What are you doing today?" she asked.

"Well, I'm going around Winterfell with Sansa to check over some structural concerns of the castle for the remainder of winter. Have you seen outside yet today? The skies are nearly black, there's a huge storm on its way."

"That's great," Dany scoffed, "just when I thought it couldn't get any colder."

"On the bright side, you'll get to witness a true Northern storm. We're closing the gates to Winterfell as a precaution for the next couple of days, the winds are picking up already."

"Well, you better get going then. Missandei will be in soon to dress me, so you can go get all of that done. I'll see you tonight my love."

Jon gave her a swift kiss on the lips and headed out.

Jon made his way to the throne room of Winterfell in a fairly good mood. Brienne stood outside, and he bid her good morning before going to greet his sister. When he entered the room, he was surprised to see Sansa hunched over on the Throne, her eyes swollen and face red.

"Sansa, what's wrong? Was it that man? I swear I'll kill him, if you just say the word I will kill him," he fumed, kneeling at her side.

Sansa stiffened and glared at him.

"It's Theon's name day," she sniffled.

A wave of realization hit Jon and he backed up a little bit.

"Oh," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know."

"Yeah, you don't know, you'll never know," she muttered.

Jon opened his arms to embrace her, but she pushed him away and stood up in a sudden release of anger.

"What man are you talking about Jon?" she asked suspiciously.

"What? No one, I just thought, last night…"

"What about last night? How could you know?"

"Sansa, we really didn't mean to see you out there, Dany just wanted to go for a walk, and she loves the Godswood."

"Why didn't you tell me that you saw me when I came to get Clara?"

"We didn't want to pry. I know you are independent and capable of taking care of yourself, but are you sure you're ready for a new relationship? It just seems…"

"Oh my gods, you really want to ask me that?" she spat.

"I'm just worried about you, that's all," his voice softened.

"I'm fine Jon, please don't try and interfere with that aspect of my life. Just go, please."

"But you said you needed me today for oversight of the repairs."

"Can you do it without me? I need some time to myself this morning. I talked to Tormund yesterday, so he knows all of the plans. I'm sorry; I'll meet up with you later."

"Of course, I'm sorry to have bothered you," he whispered.

Sansa sighed and Jon walked out of the door. He had often dealt with Sansa's tense emotions at Castle Black, but he hadn't seen her this distraught in months. He wished there was a way he could help her, but he knew he had to give her time, just as he had done when they'd first reunited. He set out to meet Tormund and be productive. As he passed by a window, he could see violent swirls of snow blocking visibility of the other side of the castle. He was surprised by how quickly the storm had intensified: they were going to be stuck inside for days.

…

"For that reason, I don't know if we'll have the funding to repair it." Tyrion said, flipping through papers.

"Your Grace, we could redirect funds from the rebuild of King's Landing, or ask the Golden Company for more money. I'd advise trying to be more frugal. Varys sent a raven, and he wants an answer soon so he can tell the workers exactly what to do. Your Grace, Daenerys?" Tyrion asked repeatedly.

Daenerys rested both hands on her hips, and arched her back. She had been ignoring annoying little stomach pains all morning, but they were getting stronger. They had been in this meeting for a little over two hours, but she could no longer focus.

"You can decide, I, I need to go. Please excuse me." She said, abruptly leaving the room.

She leaned against the wall outside of the room, looking down at the huge swell of her stomach.

"Please, stay in there a little longer. There's so much to do, we don't even have a name for you yet," she pleaded.

But the baby seemed to have plans of its own. It kicked her with great force in the ribs, and she cringed, massaging the sore area slightly. She turned when Missandei came out of the room.

"I think she's getting ready to make her arrival," Daenerys said, "you know, she's the only one that I can't really tell what to do. It's frustrating."

Missandei laughed, "That must be terrible for you. Come with me, I'll get you back to your quarters and I'll call Sam and the midwives."

Daenerys began to walk with Missandei, but soon she had to stop, clutching her stomach as the pain wrapped around her again. She took deep breaths and bent over, but Missandei held her up and whispered reassuringly in her ear.

"Very good Your Grace, just breathe, you're alright."

Daenerys slowly straightened back up and smiled at Missandei nervously.

"I can't imagine this is going to be very fun."

"No, it won't be, but I have a feeling it will be worth it your Grace," she smiled.

When they returned to Dany's chambers, Sansa was waiting for them outside of the door.

"Sansa, what is it?" Dany said with a concerned look.

"I'm sorry, I was just about to leave, I thought you would be here, I just wanted to ask you something. Are you alright?"

"Oh me? I'm just wonderful, although I think I've gone into labor. Here, come in with us," Dany said, beckoning to Sansa as she walked through the door.

"Oh my Gods, do you need me to do something? Did you call the midwives?" Sansa asked frantically.

Dany reassured her, "yes, we sent a maiden to go get them."

She leaned against Missandei as Sansa untied her dress and pulled it over her head. She paused when Dany went through another contraction, placing a hand on her back to steady her. Sam called to them and knocked on the door.

"Wait Sam," Sansa yelled, "we're getting her changed."

Once they got her nightgown on and sat her on the bed, they opened the door to find Sam and Gilly.

"Oh, hello, I wasn't expecting to see you," Dany smiled kindly to Gilly.

"Yes well, you see, there's a slight problem. The midwives are in the village, and there's no way to get them here in such a storm. Hopefully the storm will pass by the time you're ready to deliver, but for now I figured Gilly could help me."

The color drained from Dany's face and she looked to Sansa with concern. Sansa smiled kindly and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll be here too. We've both done this before; you're in good hands Dany."

Dany smiled at Sansa and Sam clapped his hands together.

"Well, shall we see if you're in labor? Again?" He joked, and Dany nodded awkwardly.

She lied back and reached out for Sansa's hand as Sam settled himself at the end of the bed. Missandei placed a comforting hand on her knee, and Dany inhaled sharply as Sam began his exam and a contraction hit her simultaneously.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, pausing, "did I hurt you?"

"No," Dany panted, "it's just a…"

"A contraction," Missandei interjected, and Dany nodded quickly in approval.

Sansa grimaced in pain when Dany's grip tightened on her hand, but she put on a smile and coached her through the contraction.

"Okay, well, I have good news and bad news," Sam said, and everyone looked at him with great concern.

"The good news is you're definitely in labor, but the bad news is I don't think the storm will end in time for the midwives to get here for the birth. So, Your Grace, I present your birthing counsel."

Dany faked a laugh for Sam's sake, but her fear was evident.

"How long have I been in labor?" Dany asked.

"Well, it's probably been several hours, but it's your second baby, so things go a lot faster."

Dany was hit with a pang of sadness when she remembered what had happened last time, but she tried to convince herself that things would be different.

"I'll be back in about an hour to check on you again, but I don't think it will be long Your Grace. In the meantime, try to stay still and rest as much as possible, you've got a long night ahead of you," Sam said kindly, excusing himself and Gilly.

Once everyone cleared the room, Missandei and Sansa stayed behind to keep the Queen company while she waited.

"Oh, I guess we should get Jon," Dany chuckled.

They sent the same maiden, who rushed out of the door to find the King.

"Okay," Dany said, looking to Sansa, "you'll need to pause when I have a contraction, but tell me, what did you come to talk to me about?"

"Oh, it's not important now, Daenerys, you're in labor, we can talk about it later."

"Sansa, dear, I'm having a baby, and I feel absolutely terrible, please, distract me."

Sansa told her that it was Theon's name day, and about what happened with Jon that morning.

"To be fair, I was the one who suggested the walk. It wasn't Jon," Dany tried to defend her husband.

"Yes, but he thinks that I'm not ready, who is he to decide?"

"Sansa, I am in no way trying to minimize this situation, but it sounds like a very common sibling fight. He just wants to make sure you're okay, and you're searching for independence in a part of your life that you've never had control over. It's okay to admit you are trying something new here, and maybe you're not completely comfortable with," she paused when another contraction came, and this time she gripped Missandei's hand.

"Comfortable with a romantic relationship, which is why you're lashing out at Jon," Missandei finished the sentence, and Dany gave her a thumbs up with her free hand.

Sansa was shocked at Dany and Missandei's ability to read each other's minds.

"I suppose you're right, but I just feel strange in a world where we arrange most marriages, I feel like a teenager just sneaking around and being stupid."

"It's okay Sansa, you're allowed to have some fun, and you're only 20. But do you feel anything for this person?" Missandei asked as Daenerys grabbed onto her arm and tried to breathe through the contraction.

Sansa thought for a moment, and then shook her head.

"I know you'll find someone who is kind and handsome and deserves you, just give it time. But you've got to tell us who you're seeing now," Dany finally spoke, "I'm dying to know."

Sansa looked up at her with surprise, and shook her head again.

"I'll make a deal with you, after the baby is born, I will tell you, but only you two. No one else."

"Alright, fine, that should keep me motivated."

Their conversation was halted when there was another knock on the door.

"That must be my husband," Daenerys said, trying to sit up before she was eased back down.

"Your Grace, Sam said not to move too much. I've got it," Missandei said as Daenerys pouted.

"Sansa, you can leave for a little while, if you'd like. Get some work done, or see your daughter, or sleep. I'll have Jon to keep me company, you should both go rest."

They both thanked the Queen and got ready to leave, feeling the nervous and excited energy that surrounded the castle as Daenerys prepared to bring the heir to the throne into the world.


	17. When I Look At You

Missandei stuck her head out of the door, motioning for Jon to come in. Sansa rushed out, avoiding eye contact with her brother.

"Is she okay? Did I miss it? What happened?" Jon panicked.

Missandei placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "your Grace, everything's okay. It will probably be a few hours before the baby comes, but she's asking for you. She sent me to get rest before it progresses, so I'll be back in a little while."

"Thank you Missandei, for everything."

When Jon entered their chambers, Dany was lying on her side facing the opposite wall.

"Dany, I'm here my love," he said, afraid to approach her.

"You'll need to come around to this side; I can't really flip over much anymore."

Jon grinned and walked to her side of the bed, taking her hands in his. She looked as beautiful as she always did; her cheeks were flushed pink, and she had tiny beads of sweat collecting on her forehead. Her smile made his heart skip a beat, and even her eyes were still awake and lively.

"This is quite terrible," she said, jarring Jon out of his thoughts.

"I know, I'm so sorry you have to do this," Jon said, wiping the sweat out of her face.

A contraction came, causing Daenerys to squeeze Jon's hand and clench her face in pain. Jon's eyes went wide; he'd never seen someone in labor before. It lasted nearly a minute, and she relaxed again.

"It's okay Jon, they're not terrible yet," she exhaled, watching his own face contort.

"They get worse?" he asked.

She let out a sharp chuckle.

"They get stronger and more frequent, and then eventually, I start to push."

He stood for a moment, paralyzed by the prospect.

Daenerys looked at him with a twinkle in her eye, "I have an idea. Sam is very strict, and he's told me not to leave the bed or to move more than I have to. But in Essos, when I was pregnant, the Dothraki midwives encouraged me to walk around in the days leading up to labor. They said it would move the baby downwards, so to speak. I'd like this baby out today, so will you help me stand up?" she asked kindly.

Jon looked at her with wide eyes, "my dear, are you sure you can walk like this? If that's what Sam says, shouldn't you listen to him? What if the baby, I don't know, falls out or something…"

"Jon, stop. I saw plenty of women do this, and everything was fine for them. I know this is the right thing; I just need you to stand with me. And it's not going to fall out, is that how you think this works?"

"Alright fine, let's try it."

Jon helped Daenerys sit up slowly in bed. She swung her legs out from under the blankets and placed them firmly on the ground. She never loosened her grip on him, even when she gained her balance. Jon looked down at his wife when she locked her tiny fingers around his, and she met his gaze with a soft smile.

"What do I do?" Jon asked.

"Just stay here, and hold me. It feels so good to move."

Dany rested all of her weight against Jon, and they swayed back and forth. The only source of light was from the candles; the storm outside made it appear to be midnight even though it was midday. Daenerys's white nightgown brushed the floor as she swayed. She wrapped her arms around Jon's neck, and her head rested on his chest. Her hair was out of its braids, and Jon was fixated on her beautiful silver curls that fell around her face. One of his hands supported her back, and the other stroked her hair gently. She inhaled sharply as another contraction ripped through her, and this time she couldn't help but let out a cry of pain, which pierced Jon's heart. He caressed her back and kissed the top of her head.

"I've got you Dany, I've got you."

She nodded and Jon wiped away the tears that fell from her eyes.

"Jon, what if the baby doesn't make it? What if I don't make it?" Daenerys asked, suddenly quite frantic.

"Dany, why would you say that?"

"Oh I don't know. I'm just scared Jon."

"Dany, you have survived everything the Gods have thrown against you since the day you were born. You've overcome things that would have easily killed grown men, you gave birth to dragons, you've conquered entire cities and the Seven Kingdoms…you can do this Dany, if anyone can do it it's you. Not to mention, you have Sam, and me, and Missandei, and Sansa…" he trailed off.

Daenerys nodded against him, "I hope you're right about this."

"I know I am, I promise you."

Together they swayed in silence for a while; the only noises were Dany's small cries or moans when she went through longer and stronger contractions. Sam came in once to check her progress, and even though he disapproved of her standing, she refused to lay down. It was an incredibly calm environment, and even though Jon could tell Dany was in agony, she remained steady. At one point she sneezed, and Jon felt her stiffen. He felt a dripping of fluid at his feet, and she pulled away to look at him.

"Did you just, wet yourself?" he asked her nervously.

"No, you fool. My water broke," she said, looking down at the small puddle.

Jon suddenly remembered that was a part of labor, and he tried to soothe his wife, who looked humiliated.

"It's okay Dany, I have plenty of socks," he tried to lighten the mood.

She laughed a little bit, but then cried out in pain and sunk into a squat, Jon holding onto her as she went down. She couldn't talk through the pain, so Jon breathed with her, trying to do as Sam had advised him.

"You need to get Sam," she choked, "that one was different."

Before she could try to walk, Jon lifted her into the bed and flew out of the door. He ran to the temporary room Sam was in during the labor, and knocked ferociously.

"You need to come now, Dany said something's changed."

"Okay, let's go, I was getting ready to check in," Sam said calmly, trailing closely behind Jon.

When they reached the room, Dany was on all fours on the bed, breathing sharply.

"Your Grace, we're here. By the looks of it, I don't think it will be much longer."

"That's the quickest labor I've ever seen, what was that, six hours?" Gilly asked in shock as she entered with clean sheets and blankets.

"It's not over yet," Dany snapped, "go get Missandei and Sansa."

"Alright, let's see how close we are," Sam encouraged, pushing her nightgown up to her waist.

Jon quickly diverted his gaze, and Dany buried her face into his neck and grimaced, trying to find an outlet for the pain. He bent over her awkwardly and tried to hold her shoulders and ease her pain, but he felt completely helpless watching her struggle.

"You're almost ready to push Your Grace, it will not be much longer now. Here, let's get you on your back, you'll be more comfortable," he carefully helped her roll over, "Jon, this is usually when most husbands leave, we'll call you in when the baby is born."

Jon looked to Daenerys, her face was now completely drenched in sweat, and she screamed out when the most intense pain yet wrapped her entire midsection. At this point, neither of them could tell when one contraction ended and another started. Finally, Sansa and Missandei entered the room.

"Jon, really you can go, we have enough people," Sam repeated.

"Please don't leave me," she whimpered in the smallest voice he had heard all night.

"Dany, my love, I'll be right outside of the door, I'll keep you safe, and I'll be in as soon as the baby gets here."

"No no no!" she cried as he left.

Overcoming the pain, Daenerys managed to glare at Sam.

"Why did you do that? I need him here," she moaned.

Sam apologized quietly as he and Gilly continued to set up, and Sansa and Missandei sat on either side of the bed with her.

"Daenerys, it's okay, we're here, you'll be okay," Sansa said gently, as if she was calming her own daughter.

"Missandei, can I push? I really want to push," she sobbed, gripping her hand with all of her strength.

"Your Grace, just a little while longer, we'll set up, and by then your body will be ready," Sam encouraged.

The next few moments were frenzy. Sansa and Missandei propped pillows behind Daenerys so that she was sitting up. They placed clean sheets underneath of her, and bent her knees back. Water was heated to clean the baby and Daenerys after the birth. With all of this going on, Dany let out an agonizing scream every twenty seconds or so, and Jon stood outside of the door, debating whether or not to burst in and be by his wife's side. Dany decided to herself that out of everything she'd experienced in life, this had to be the most painful.

"Open the window," she groaned as Sam settled between her legs.

"What?" nearly all of them replied in unison.

"I'm burning to death, open the windows!" she screamed, trying to rip her nightgown off as well. She didn't care about indecencies anymore as she searched for some semblance of relief.

Gilly sighed and obeyed the Queen, being struck with a blast of freezing wind from the storm raging outside. Sansa and Missandei carefully helped Dany work herself out of the nightgown, and positioned her again as Sam checked her once more.

"Okay, Your Grace, it's time. You can push with the next contraction."

She did as she was told, and squeezed Missandei and Sansa's hands with the intensity of each push. They hid their pain well and continued to encourage her. Gilly sat with Sam, but after nearly a half an hour, the baby still hadn't begun to emerge.

"Jon, where's Jon! I don't care about tradition, I need him." Dany cried, delirious with pain.

Missandei was about to comfort her, but Jon burst through the door, and Sansa moved out of his way so he could be by his wife's side.

"Oh thank the Gods," Sansa said, trying to rub life into the hand Daenerys had been squeezing for the last half hour.

"I'm here Dany, I'm so sorry that I left," he murmured in her ear.

She grabbed his hand and touched her forehead against his, managing a small thank you between breaths. Gilly and Sam stopped encouraging her to push, and the commotion in the room stopped except for Dany's constant panting. Sam and Gilly looked to each other with concern.

"What is it?" Sansa said, walking to Sam's side.

"The baby is positioned the wrong way; it's not headfirst."

Dany clenched her teeth together, and couldn't help but push again.

"What do we do?" Dany asked, her neck straining to make eye contact with Sam.

"I have to let you push the body out. It's too late to try and turn it."

Daenerys inhaled sharply when another contraction came and looked up to Jon, who brushed back her hair and smiled nervously.

"I told you, I told you something would go wrong," She moaned.

Sam looked up to Daenerys, "Your Grace, I need you to listen. You'll be able to get the body out quite easily, but the head will be difficult. You need to push as hard as you can when I tell you, and I'll help you by pulling. It will be hard, but it's possible."

"Yes, okay, whatever we need to do is, oh gods," Dany screamed as another contraction started.

"Alright, go on and push."

Everyone was quiet for the next several minutes, nervously waiting for Sam to give the next instructions.

"Your Grace, the body is out. When the next contraction comes, I need you to bear down as much as you can, this will be the hardest part."

Daenerys nodded, and it wasn't long before she began pushing again.

"Sam, she's burning up," Jon said, feeling Dany's forehead.

"Here, I've got it," Sansa said, pulling Dany's hair into a loose braid and handing Jon a cool cloth.

"Your Grace, you're doing wonderful, this is working. I'm going to gently begin pulling, we're very close." Sam warned.

She tucked her chin into her chest and pulled her legs back, and continued bearing down for what felt like an eternity. Jon held on to her tightly and breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the baby's head began to emerge.

"Daenerys, one more and it will all be over," Missandei encouraged.

Finally, with a piercing moan, the baby was born. Dany collapsed against the pillows, and Sam lowered the infant into his lap.

"Another Stormborn! It's a girl!" Gilly exclaimed, and they heard a cry emerge within seconds.

"Give her to me," Daenerys whispered, loosening her grip on Jon and shakily reaching her arms out for the baby.

"Your Grace, surely you'd like me to clean her up first for you, I'll get the blood off, and cut the cord, and I'll…I'll bring her back in a while once she's clean and you've delivered the afterbirth and rested…" Sam assured her.

"I want to see her, I can handle a little blood," she said between shallow breaths.

Sam obeyed his Queen and gently lowered the baby onto Daenerys' chest, the cord still keeping them attached. The baby was screaming, and Dany talked to her quietly, patted her back, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Within a few minutes the loud cries turned to small, consistent whimpers as the baby was soothed by the warmth and familiar voice of her mother.

"Hello little one, I know, that was pretty difficult, wasn't it? Oh my gods, you're beautiful, do you know how beautiful you are?" Dany cooed to the newborn.

Daenerys was mad at herself for crying because she couldn't see her baby clearly through the tears. She had spent years thinking she'd never bear a living child, and now she felt the warmth of her own newborn against her skin. She caressed the baby's cheek with her thumb, and supported her back with her other hand. She had the tiniest bit of dark brown hair, and she blinked up at Dany with gentle grey eyes. The baby placed her tiny fist against Dany's chin, and Dany smiled, closing her eyes and pressing her nose to the baby's forehead.

"We did it Jon, we made this," she whispered breathlessly.

"Dany, that was the most amazing thing I've ever seen you do. Thank you, for getting her here safely. She's so beautiful," Jon muttered, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Your Grace, we must deliver the afterbirth, but it's much easier than the baby, if you'd like us to take her to give her a bath, and you can nurse her afterwards," Gilly smiled.

"Not yet, Jon, do you want to hold her?" Dany asked, smiling up at him weakly.

"I've, I've never held a newborn before," he stuttered.

"Me neither," Dany replied quickly, "just hold her against you, she's not going anywhere."

"Okay," he said, carefully taking the baby from Daenerys.

He sat slowly in the chair and settled her into his arms. She yawned and curled her fingers around the blanket that Gilly had wrapped around her. She nuzzled her head against Jon's arm, and gazed up at the new face. He was fascinated by the whimpers and yawns as she stretched her arms and legs for the first time.

Sam had warned Jon that childbirth would be too messy and indecent for him to handle, but it was simultaneously the most beautiful and most terrifying thing he'd ever seen. He looked over to Dany, and was in awe of her strength. He knew that the tiny little human curled up against his chest was absolutely perfect, and he would never forget watching her come into the world or take her first breath. He tried not to cry, embarrassed to be so emotional in front of his sister and best friend, but he couldn't help it. He placed a gentle hand on Dany's shoulder, and the world faded away, leaving just the baby in his arms and the love of his life in the bed beside him.

After a while, Sam beckoned Jon to meet him outside. He carefully handed the baby to Missandei, and walked out with Sam.

"Jon, I want you to watch the Queen very carefully tonight. She lost a lot of blood, she's so tiny, and the baby was average sized, so it was a difficult labor. I got the bleeding under control, but make sure she drinks and eats everything that we bring her; she's going to need her strength to care for the baby."

"Of course Sam, I won't leave her side. Thank you, for helping us, there's no one we would have trusted more."

"Congratulations Jon, she's a beautiful baby," Sam smiled.

When Jon went back into the room, he noticed how pale Daenerys was. She had been cleaned up, and was now lying under the covers, both arms wrapped around their daughter as she suckled at her breast. Missandei passed him with a pile of blood-soaked sheets, and he was jarred out of the euphoria he felt. Suddenly, the warning Sam gave him felt much more dire. Sansa sat in the chair Jon had used, helping Dany hold the baby up as she fed.

"Sansa," he whispered, "is she okay?" he asked, looking to Dany, whose eyes had closed.

"She's tired Jon, that was a difficult labor. We'll make sure she eats and drinks, but it could take a few weeks or months for her to build up her strength again. That was a lot of blood she lost."

Jon's blood ran cold, but he tried to find comfort in his sister's words. He gently lay in the bed with his wife, and replaced Sansa's hands with his. Dany could sense him next to her, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Sansa, I wanted to apologize…"

"No, Jon, don't worry about that right now. Just take care of them both, please. I'll see you tomorrow," Sansa whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and leaving.

They sat there for a while, and when she was finished feeding, Daenerys worked up the strength to burp her. She settled to sleep in Dany's arms, and they both marveled at their daughter for a while as she slept. Eventually, Jon took her and settled her into the bassinet, making sure she was wrapped in plenty of clothes and blankets. He kissed her gently and walked back to Dany, feeding her the soup that the kitchen maids had brought. She finished the bowl and then fell quickly asleep. Jon lay beside her, making sure she kept breathing, and the door very gently creaked open. It was Sam.

"Jon," he whispered, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."


	18. Terrible Love (part 1)

Notes: Hello! I think this is the most angsty chapter I've ever written, but I love drama. Small warning, there are some rather sad complications from the birth, but I didn't make anything too graphic. I did some research and tried to make it as accurate as possible but forgive me if there are any errors.

The first thing Daenerys felt when she woke up was a terrible pain just behind her forehead, and she clutched her head as she tried to sit up. She felt gentle hands pushing her back into the bed, and she slowly opened her eyes to see Sansa sitting at her bedside.

"You're alright Daenerys, just lay back," she whispered.

Everything hurt. Her head felt as if it was about to explode, and even breathing caused her soreness. She whimpered as Sansa took her hand.

"You feel like you're about to die, don't you?"

"Yes," she choked out, "my head, it's pounding."

Sansa looked at her empathetically, and pressed a hand to her forehead.

"You're still very feverish; do you feel cold?" Sansa asked.

Dany couldn't tell, the only thing she could feel was the pain in her head. Everything was so loud, and she felt nauseous.

"Where's Jon," Dany whispered.

"He said he was going to drink some ale with Sam. He asked me to come in and spend the rest of the night with you; Missandei is sleeping in the chambers across from us with Clara."

"Shh," Dany said, trying to limit the noise. She couldn't figure out why Jon would have left her, but it was too much to think about at the moment. She took a drink of water that Sansa offered her. She was shaken out of her thoughts when the baby began to cry, wincing at the sound.

"Could you bring her to me?"

"Of course," Sansa said, going over to pick up the tiny bundle.

Daenerys could barely hold the baby herself, and Sansa made sure the baby was securely placed on Dany's chest. Daenerys had gotten a few hours of sleep, but somehow she seemed weaker now than she was right after the delivery.

"Jon," she whispered, "where is he?"

"I just told you Daenerys, he's downstairs with Sam."

"Oh, okay," she whispered, looking at her daughter, who was still crying.

Dany didn't seem to know what to do, so Sansa helped her remove the top of her nightgown and lead the baby to her breast. She started to suckle, but Dany couldn't support the baby's weight, so Sansa carefully cradled the her head as she fed. Sansa couldn't remember being so weak in the hours after giving birth, at least before she had gotten sick. She had a strange feeling creep up as she watched Daenerys look to the ceiling, staring at nothing.

"Have you thought of a name yet?"

"I heard it, in a dream, I think my mother was telling me, but now I can't remember, it started with a "C" I think, but I can't remember," Dany trailed off, reaching for her head again.

Sansa's skin prickled in alarm: something was terribly wrong.

"That's okay, it will come to you, Clara was nameless for over a week."

Dany closed her eyes as her daughter fed, and Sansa watched her carefully. Her breathing was labored, and the fever from the birth had yet to come down. When the baby pulled away from Daenerys' breast and fell back asleep, Sansa lowered her into the crib. When she turned back to the bed, she saw Daenerys crying quietly.

"Dany, what's wrong?"

"It hurts," she cried.

"What hurts, what is it?" Sansa asked.

"Everything, something is wrong, I can just feel it, I want Jon, why did he leave me?"

Sansa felt a flash of anger for her careless brother, and she smoothed back Dany's hair and kissed her forehead.

"It's alright, I'll go get him, okay? Just wait here."

She backed out of the bedroom and quickly went to Missandei.

"Missandei, I'm sorry to wake you, but could you stay with Daenerys for a moment? I'm going to get Sam, I think something is wrong."

Missandei sat up and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"How so?"

"She's complaining of a terrible headache, and she seems, I don't know, confused. Her breathing is erratic, and she's really upset. I didn't experience any of this after giving birth. I was sick from the blood loss, but this is different. I want Sam to make sure everything is okay."

"Okay, I'll go to her now. Will Clara be okay?"

"Lady Brienne is outside of Daenerys' door, I'll tell her Clara is sleeping in here, but she's a heavy sleeper, she won't go anywhere."

Missandei went to Dany and Sansa headed to the pub, feeling a sense of dread fall upon the once joyous night.

…

Jon thought it was pretty funny. The entire thing was just funny now. He must have been on his seventh or eighth mug of ale; he had lost track. Sam had sat nervously across from him for a while, but once he had drunken enough, he laughed alongside Jon.

Jon was in utter disbelief when Sam explained everything. He had wanted to shake Dany awake to tell her, but Sam urged him to leave her be. His entire world had come crashing down upon him, and after nearly an hour of processing, Sam had suggested they go to get a drink.

"What am I supposed to do? Stay with her? I love her Sam, but is this too much? I don't even know what I'm saying, she just gave birth to my daughter, oh gods I don't know," he rambled on.

Sam laughed for a while and then his face turned serious.

"You're not going to stay with her, you can't, that's…"

"Sam, she's my wife, I can't just leave her."

"I guess this stuff never stopped the Targaryens, including you."

Jon had the momentary impulse to punch Sam, but after a few seconds, he burst out in another fit of laughter. He tried to push the thought of Daenerys out of his mind, but stuck in his subconscious was the image of her lying in bed so pale and fragile. He shook it off and went for another sip. They were going in circles about the same topics when Arya came in, pushing Bran.

"Ahhh, Arya, Bran, have you met your new cousin, or niece, or second cousin, or whatever the fuck she is to you, I can't figure it out anymore."

Bran and Arya looked to each other, and Jon grew quiet.

"Jon, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Arya spat.

"I just figured out my wife is my aunt. That's what the fuck is wrong with me!" he answered, swaying as he tried to stand up.

Arya wasn't surprised; Bran had told her everything when he discovered that Sam had told Jon. They had come as damage control, trying to undo the utter destruction Sam had caused by telling Jon on this night.

"Sam, out of all of the times you could have told them, you choose now, after the birth of their first child? What is wrong with you?" Bran asked, showing the first signs of emotion any of them had seen from him since he was a child.

Sam stiffened, and narrowed his eyes at Bran.

"You never gave me advice on when to tell them! What was I supposed to do? I cared for them day in and day out, stitching Jon's injuries, keeping the Queen alive during the pregnancy, delivering their baby, and I finally work up the courage to tell him and you scold me?"

"I didn't think I'd have to, but apparently that was one task you couldn't complete by yourself."

The tension in the room was forgotten when Sansa stepped in, slightly paler than usual.

"Sam, something's wrong with the Queen. And Jon, she's asking for you."

"What?"

"She's breathing heavily, she still has a fever, and she's complaining of a major headache. She seems very confused about what's going on around her; she's just not acting like herself. She's crying for Jon."

"Those are all very common symptoms after childbirth. She's just recovering from a very traumatic experience, and she'll be fine as long as she eats and drinks, has she eaten anything?"

"Yes, she took some more soup, and had plenty of water."

"Then she's fine."

"Sam, with all due respect, she's not fine. I can get the other maester if you're otherwise occupied," she said, looking to the mug in his grip.

"No, you cannot. I am the maester to the Queen, and I will treat her accordingly. When I tell you she's fine, I mean it. Just tell her to go back to sleep, she'll feel better in the morning."

Sansa's blood boiled.

"If anything happens to her, it will be on you. And I may remind you, you are talking to a Queen. If you speak to me like that again, I'll have your tongue cut out."

Sansa motioned to Arya and Bran, but before Arya left, she went over to Jon, who was staring at the table in front of him.

"You're an idiot Jon," Arya stated, "you're acting like this is her fault. She has no clue about any of this so don't you dare act like she's the guilty one here. She just delivered a baby, your baby, and you left her alone with it to fend for herself."

"It can't be right Arya, how can any of this be right?"

"It's life Jon, I've never seen it go right. But you don't abandon people. She's ill, and she's asking for you. You'll never be able to live with yourself if something happens to her and you weren't there to say goodbye. Women die in childbirth all of the time, and death doesn't discriminate."

Jon raised his hand to strike her but she grabbed his wrist and twisted.

"I didn't think so," she said, slamming it back into the table.

Arya, Bran, and Sansa met outside of the room, all three with candles to light the dim hallway.

"He's such an ass when he's drunk, I've never seen quite a transformation," Arya complained.

"I agree, but we don't have time to discuss it. Something is seriously wrong; I'm going to get Maester Purell, he helped me with the smallpox outbreak, maybe he can do something to at least ease her pain."

"But Sam," Arya said.

"I don't care what Sam says Arya. I'm the Queen of the North, and Daenerys is a guest in my home. If I don't think she's being cared for properly by Sam, I'll see to it myself."

Arya smiled, and Bran nodded in approval. The three went to Maester Purell's door and he answered them very groggily in his nightclothes.

"Maester, we're very sorry to wake you, but we need your help."

…

Sansa led the Maester to Dany's chambers, and Missandei was holding a damp cloth to Dany's head when they came in.

"Daenerys, I'm back. This is Maester Purell, he's going to examine you to see if there's something going on that's causing you so much pain."

Dany nodded weakly, and asked for Jon yet again.

"He's on his way," Arya answered quickly, interrupting Sansa in case she would have told the truth.

That lie made Dany smile ever so slightly, and Sansa's heart sunk. She should have Brienne drag him up here, she thought to herself. The maester pulled back the covers and gently introduced himself to Dany, who seemed to be slightly aware of his presence when he laid a hand on her arm. He pressed into her still swollen belly, and she winced in pain. Sansa could see that her legs were extremely swollen, and when the maester pulled up her nightgown, she was shocked at how heavily Dany was still bleeding.

"He did a terrible job controlling the bleeding. The womb hasn't contracted at all, so there's been nothing to stop the hemorrhage. Did he tell you to keep pressing on her stomach to stimulate contractions?"

Sansa was taken aback by how much more knowledgeable Maester Purell seemed. She shook her head, and he sighed. Sansa excused herself from the room for a moment, and Arya followed her out.

"Arya, I think Sam might have done this on purpose. Oh my gods, how could I have missed this?"

"Missed what?"

Before Sansa could reply, the Maester called them in frantically. He had a look of absolute terror on his face.

"Get the King and whoever delivered the baby now," he said stoically.

"What's wrong?" Sansa asked.

"I know what it is. The headaches, the swelling, the confusion: it's eclampsia. He needs to get here now. If there's any chance of saving her, I need to know exactly what he did."

Arya took off down the hall, handmaidens trailing behind her.

"What about the King?"

"I figured he'd want to be here in case, in case…"

"In case of what?" Sansa asked sharply.

"In case he has to say goodbye," he answered solemnly.

The room fell silent, and they heard a cry from Daenerys. That's when the seizure started.


	19. Terrible Love (part 2)

Notes: Okay, here it is. You'll probably breeze past the notes (I don't blame you) so I'll just put my warning here, some graphic medical stuff.

Jon was still sitting with Sam, nursing another mug of ale, when he heard a strange screeching from outside. It was different from the wind of the relentless storm, and he shushed Sam to listen again. His heart froze: it was Rhaegal. Something deep inside of him told him to go to Daenerys, and the events from the past hour seemed to melt away. He stood up slowly, and started to stumble towards the hallway. Sam tried to stop him, but he brushed past, colliding with Arya as she spun around the corner. The look in her eyes revealed a terror he had only ever seen in the faces of men on the losing side of a battle.

"Jon, please, she doesn't have much time."

Nothing in Jon's life had ever sobered him up so quickly than those words. He could already feel the guilt and self-disgust culminate as he followed his sister in a clumsy run. She paused at the closed door, and looked up at him.

"I'm so sorry," was all she said before the door swung open.

Jon couldn't feel his legs in the doorway; he felt like he was thrown into another battle for his life. Dany was shaking uncontrollably on the bed. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. She was gasping for air as if she was drowning. Sansa had Dany's head between her own knees, trying to keep her from injuring it. Blood was dripping from her nose, and as far as Jon could tell, she was already gone. Sam caught up and stood behind Jon, completely speechless. Everyone could hear Rhaegal and Drogon flying in circles outside as they sensed that something was terribly wrong with their mother.

"What happened?" Jon whispered at a loss for words.

Maester Purell stood perfectly still, watching as the convulsions continued. Missandei stood in the corner weeping as she held her best friend's newborn, and Sansa prayed out loud as she held Dany's head. More handmaidens rushed in to take the baby away, and Jon sank to his knees at his wife's bedside, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

"But, we don't even have a name for her yet," he whispered to himself.

Finally, the convulsions ceased, but Dany's muscles remained rigid. No one in the room wanted to move, but Maester Purell came over to the head of the bed.

"Is she breathing?" he asked Sansa.

No one moved, and Sansa continued praying out loud as Dany went limp in her arms.

"Sansa, is she breathing?" The Maester asked more aggressively.

Shaking, Sansa pressed her head to Dany's chest, and felt a weak rise and fall. She nodded, and the maester rolled up his sleeves.

"Sam, when you delivered the afterbirth, did you get all of it out?"

"Don't ask about such things in front of them, it's indecent," Sam remarked.

"Fucking answer him Sam," Jon growled from where he sat on the floor.

"Yes, of course I did, well I think so."

"You didn't even check to see if you'd delivered all of it?"

"What difference does it make?"

"You did this to her! Get out!" Sansa screamed, trying to hold back her own tears.

Sam made a motion to leave, but Jon grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to Dany's bedside.

"You will answer this man, and you will save her."

"We don't have a lot of time before she starts to seize again, there's a chance that a part of the placenta is still in there, and it could be what caused the seizure. If she's going to survive, we have to get the rest out."

"What if it's not in there, what if I did get all of it?" Sam asked.

"You know as well as I do that there's nothing we can do if that's the case. She'll seize again, and she'll die."

Sam went over to Jon and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Jon, we've been friends for years, and I promise you, it's all out. Don't subject her to such an invasive procedure in her final moments, we should just let her go peacefully," he whispered.

"It will hardly be peaceful, she'll suffocate," Maester Purell corrected.

Jon looked to Daenerys, whose eyes were half open as her head lolled to the side. Blood was streaming from her mouth; she must have bitten her tongue during the convulsions. Sansa smoothed back her hair and whispered to her quietly, but Jon knew Dany was completely oblivious. He would have to make this decision for her. He tried to focus on the current situation, but his mind wandered to the first time he met her, how small but powerful she looked upon that magnificent throne at Dragonstone. How gorgeous she was. He remembered when she promised him her armies during the fight against the Night King, and he remembered when he finally saw her for the glorious Queen she would be. He remembered the first time they had made love on the boat, and he knew that's when their daughter had been conceived. He remembered their marriage, the fighting, the struggling, the winning, the loving, he remembered all of it. And he knew one thing: it couldn't be over. Nothing, not Sam's truth, not even death itself, would take Daenerys away from him. Not today.

"Do it," Jon said, taking Dany's lifeless hand in his.

"Jon, you're making the wrong decision, you're drunk, and you're going to be sorry," Sam warned.

"Sam, if we end up saving her, you're going to be sorry for ever suggesting that we don't. Get the fuck out," Sansa spat.

Sam stalked out, and the Maester prepared himself.

"We don't have a lot of time; let's get her to the end of the bed."

Jon carefully lifted his wife to the edge of the bed, shivering as she fell limp in his arms. He settled her and the Maester spread her legs apart. He paused for a moment, and looked up at Jon.

"Do you want to leave? It can be gruesome."

"No, I'll stay with her."

The Maester nodded and began to work. Jon clutched Dany's hand in his as he felt her flinch in pain.

"I know it hurts love, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Jon whispered to her.

"Her response is a good sign your Grace, it means she still has sufficient brain activity," the Maester said.

"So she can feel it? Oh gods, the poor thing."

"I don't know your Grace, I don't know what people experience directly after seizures so strong, but at least she's reacting."

Jon focused on Dany while the Maester tried to save her, and he felt like he was being stabbed as he watched her face contort in pain. He thought of Sansa's words, you did this to her, and wondered what he had missed. In a matter of life and death, why wouldn't Sam want to do everything he could to save her? He was jarred out of his thoughts when the Maester sighed in relief.

"I got it, I got it," his voice almost seemed to break from the stress.

Jon nearly fell apart then, but he busied himself with helping Daenerys. Sansa and Missandei assisted the Maester in cleaning Dany up again, and Jon settled her back under the covers. She didn't stir throughout any of the movement, but Jon could feel her shallow breaths slow as she relaxed.

"What now?" the three asked, nearly in unison.

"We wait, and pray she doesn't seize again. If she doesn't, we may have just saved her life. But your Graces, she's lost a dangerous amount of blood, and the seizure, it may have put undue stress on her brain."

"What does that mean?" Jon looked to Dany as he spoke.

"It means she may never wake up."

Jon held his head in his hands, "this is entirely my fault."

Maester Purell placed a hand on Jon's shoulder.

"Your grace, this is not your doing. There's no way you could have known what was going on if no one told you. But Maester Sam, I can't understand how he missed these signs. Nothing is certain, but she does have a chance, don't give up on her yet."

"I won't. I won't ever give up on her."

The Maester nodded and looked to Sansa, "your Grace, I'll be back to check in. If anything happens, or you have concerns, I'll come right over. It's been nearly an hour, I think we're in the clear."

The Maester left, and Sansa glared at Jon. To break the tension, Missandei exhaled.

"I'll go check on the princess," she said gently.

When she left, Jon didn't hesitate to speak.

"I know Sansa, I fucked up. I don't need a lecture right now."

"I don't care about what you need. She begged, begged for you! I've seen many things in my life Jon, but nothing has broken my heart quite like that. You should be ashamed. I don't know how you'll live with yourself if she doesn't wake up; knowing that her final thoughts were that you'd abandoned her. She risked, and may have lost her life giving birth to your child, and you left her! How could you do that, how could you do that to her?" Sansa let her tears fall, and could barely get her final words out before she collapsed into sobs.

He held his arms out, and she fell into his embrace.

"I'm so scared," she shuddered.

Jon didn't respond, he knew there was nothing he could have said to better the situation. He held Sansa for a moment, and eventually she pulled away, sniffling and wiping away tears. She made her way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jon asked quietly.

"To get Tyrion. We're going to visit Sam. We have a few questions for him," she said, regaining her composure, "will you be okay alone, or are you planning on deserting her again?"

"I won't leave her side Sansa, I promise."

As soon as Sansa left the room, Jon let go too. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried so hard, and he felt himself lose control as sobs racked his entire body. He had been so selfish; only able to see his own pain while Dany suffered silently through hers. How could he be so terrible to someone he loved so much? He laid his head on Dany's shoulder, and soon the ends of her hair were damp with his tears.

"Dany, please, don't leave me. I need you, our daughter needs you. I know you can survive this, I know you can. Just come back to me, and I promise, I won't ever leave you again. I'm so sorry, Dany, I'm so sorry, I took you for granted, and you had to nearly die to prove to me how wrong I was. You didn't deserve this, I wish I could take it all away, and it could just be you and me, and the baby. That would be nice, wouldn't it? We'll plant the lemon tree you always talk about, and I'll look for red paint for that door, I'll make sure it's the exact shade you want. We'll be so happy," he mumbled, nearly incoherently.

He sat up quickly and wiped his eyes when Missandei came into the room carrying his daughter.

"How is she?"

"No changes yet, but the Maester said she has a chance," Jon sniffled, trying to hide his tears.

Missandei nodded, and walked closer.

"She's sleeping now; I thought you'd like to hold her?"

Jon reached out, and Missandei settled his daughter into his arms. She stirred for a moment, and settled back to sleep in his familiar hold. He felt calmer immediately, and almost smiled when she yawned and wrapped her fist around his finger. Her fingers were so small and dainty, and he marveled at them as she brought her other hand up to her face. Instinctively, he pulled her hand away so she wouldn't scratch her face with her tiny fingernails. He was rocking back and forth without realizing it, and the world seemed to consolidate into the tiny baby he held in his arms. Now that her hair was dry, it seemed a little bit lighter than he'd remembered it.

"Her face, she looks just like Dany," Jon whispered.

"I hope she gets to see that for herself," Missandei said absentmindedly, taking Dany's hand.

…

2 days later

The first thing she felt was pain. The aching of her muscles, the dryness of her throat, and the soreness between her legs. Her memories had slowly begun to creep in: she had a baby, a little girl. They were happy, but then she couldn't find Jon. That's all she could remember. Control began seeping back into her muscles, and she worked her eyes open ever so slowly. A small moan escaped from her lips, and she felt someone jolt beside her. She turned her head to see Jon and a strange man staring at her. Her eyes wandered frantically for the baby, but she couldn't find her.

"Dany?" Jon asked gently, his eyes filled with hope.

"I think she's looking for the baby, I'll bring her over," the strange man guessed.

Dany reached her hand out to Jon very slowly, and he kissed it gently. The other man lowered her baby carefully onto the pillow beside her, and Jon moved his free hand to steady the infant. Dany turned her head to press her face to the baby's, and felt relief as she saw that she was as happy and healthy as she'd remembered her.

She was shaken out of her happiness when the man placed his hand on her stomach. She tried to pull away, but she grimaced in pain, unable to move.

"It's okay love, this is Maester Purell, he saved your life, he's just making sure everything's okay."

"I, I," Dany's eyes widened in fear as she struggled to speak.

Her heart was pounding, but Jon caressed her cheek and looked straight into her eyes.

The Maester looked at her and spoke quietly, "your Grace, it's okay if you can't speak right away. Here, why don't you have some water, that may help."

Jon pulled away from her hand to help her drink, but he quickly froze when she tightened her grip. She cried out when she pulled him closer; even the gentle tug on his arm made her muscles scream. She had so many questions in her head, but she needed to tell Jon so badly what she had discovered in her delirium. He watched her patiently with doting eyes, and she slowly let the words form in her head.

"I know," she managed to get out.

"You know what?" he asked nervously.

"Her name."


	20. Over the Rainbow

Notes: I was nervous about the baby's name, but at least the Shakespeare fans will appreciate it :) Anyways, a good mix of fluff and angst, thank you for reading!

"Cordelia?" Jon repeated, trying to sound out the strange name.

"Yes, I heard it in a dream."

"It's beautiful dear. What will we call her for short?"

"Cora," she answered after a moment.

Jon smiled at her, and the Maester walked over to Dany's bedside.

"Your Grace, I checked everything over while you were waking up, and you seem to be recovering very nicely. You're still bleeding, but that's to be expected for a couple of weeks after giving birth, so don't be alarmed. You have stitches, so be very cautious when you move. And I'm sorry, but you can't bathe until the stitches come out, but you've gotten a couple of sponge baths so hopefully you're feeling okay. Jon knows this, but in a while, I'd like you to try to take a few steps, even if it's just to the wall and back. It will get your blood flowing, and help you to regain your strength. It's going to be a while until you feel like yourself again, but you're doing wonderfully. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call me over. You are my first priority your Grace, anything you need I will assist you with," he said kindly.

"Thank you," she said, pretending to understand everything. He bowed and left the room.

Once it was just the three of them, Dany looked back to Jon.

"What happened to me? Where's Sam? Why did you leave?"

"Dany, love, one at a time. You had a seizure shortly after you gave birth, and Maester Purell discovered that a part of the afterbirth was still inside of you, and he had to, well, he had to get it out," Jon tried to explain as politely as he could.

Dany cringed at the thought, and Jon smoothed back her hair. Cordelia started to whimper, and Jon gently lifted her onto Dany's chest. No matter how much she had suffered for it, Dany knew that her daughter had been worth every bit of the pain.

"She absolutely adores laying on your chest, I think she likes listening to your heart, since she had been so close to it for so long."

Dany smiled and strained her neck to kiss Cora on the forehead.

"What happened next?"

Jon sighed, wishing that he didn't have to relive the trauma all over again.

"While he was performing the procedure, he discovered tears you had that Sam must have forgotten to stitch, and they were causing you to lose even more blood. So he stitched those, and you've been resting here ever since. We didn't know if you would wake up, I'm so relieved," he said, tearing up again.

Dany pushed past the pain to reach her hand out to his face, and she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I wouldn't leave you," she murmured.

Dany's touch had never felt as comforting as it did now, and Jon enjoyed their first time together as a family, watching Cordelia's eyes as she struggled to keep them open. She shifted her head onto Dany's breast, and Dany's breath caught in pain.

"What is it?" Jon said, his entire body stiffening.

"They're really sore," she whimpered.

Jon pulled her nightgown down slowly, and he was surprised to see that her breasts were rather swollen.

"I should get the Maester Dany," he pleaded, knowing she would protest.

She shrunk into the bed and shook her head. She was so sick of her body being bared for everyone to see, so much so that she was thankful she had been unconscious during the procedures Jon had described.

"What if something is wrong?" Jon asked, and Dany could tell he was clearly scarred by what had happened.

"What if something is wrong with whom?" Sansa asked as she walked through the door.

Dany felt comforted to have another woman in the room, and she looked at Jon, asking with her eyes for him to explain the situation.

"Her um, breasts, are swollen and they're sore," he explained, his face turning red.

"Oh that's simple, you haven't breastfed in two days, you just need to feed her and you'll feel better," Sansa said as she came over and kissed Dany on the cheek, "I'm so relieved to see you awake Daenerys, that was terrible."

Dany nodded sympathetically, and Jon moved out of the way so that Sansa could help the baby latch on. Dany grimaced as she started to suckle, but eventually the pain dulled.

"Who fed her?"

"While you were sleeping? I did. We had some wet-nurses, but after what happened, we didn't trust anyone. Jon and I decided it would be best, we're just lucky that I haven't completely weaned Clara off yet," Sansa smiled.

"Thank you, so much," Dany murmured as she looked at the baby and Sansa.

"She's been named," Jon said quietly from the side of the bed.

"Yes?" Sansa said eagerly.

Jon looked to Daenerys, and she swallowed.

"Cordelia, Cora for short. I didn't want another old name, we need to start new," Dany explained, finding the words coming out a little bit easier.

"That's gorgeous," Sansa said, stunned.

She sat with them for a while, but Sansa realized that Dany was now strong enough to hold all of the baby's weight. She slowly pulled her hands away, and looked up to Jon.

"Jon, could I speak with you outside for a moment? Cordelia looks like she's falling asleep; I don't want to keep her awake."

"Dany, are you alright? We'll just be outside of the door if you need anything," Jon said, stroking her hair.

"I'll be okay, go ahead," she said, not taking her eyes off of Cora.

Jon followed Sansa out, and shut the door behind him. Tyrion was waiting outside of the door.

"Tyrion? Why didn't you go inside to meet the Princess?" Jon asked curiously.

"Well, unlike most of the people in this castle, I respect the Queen's privacy, and I will visit her when she asks me to. The last thing I would want after something like that is hundreds of people in there trying to gawk at and hold my fragile little infant," he complained.

"Okay, I'm sorry. What did you need me for?"

Sansa stepped forward, and closed her eyes.

"Jon, we have good reason to believe that Sam may have purposefully neglected Daenerys after she gave birth."

Jon looked to Sansa in disbelief, and Tyrion nodded next to her.

"Your Grace, I know it's hard to hear, but we ask you to at least listen to the evidence. We all forgot a very crucial piece of information: Daenerys had Sam's father and brother executed before she met him," Tyrion began.

"What are you saying?"

"That he may have wanted revenge for what she did."

"But that doesn't make any sense, Sam's father and brother were terrible to him," Jon pondered.

"That's what I thought too," Sansa interrupted, "but family is family, and as I spent more time with Sam while he was delivering the baby and then tending to Daenerys afterwards, things got, muddled."

"Sansa, don't do this now, not everyone is out to get us."

"Jon, they're not out to get us until they are. She almost died, and we have reason to believe it was Sam's fault. I care about Daenerys, I, I love her, and I wouldn't put you through this if I didn't think she was in danger."

"Fine, what's your evidence?" he asked, feeling a sense of betrayal.

"I talked to Maester Purell, and he says that Sam would have known that the baby was breech when he first checked her for dilation. He should have felt the baby's head. I remember that he told her to stay on the bed and try to move as little as possible right after he checked her, which would have kept the baby in the same position. Maester Purell says that when a baby is breech, he encourages the mother to walk around as much as possible, because sometimes that helps them to turn. If the baby stays breech, there's a good chance that it'll get stuck in the birth canal, and both the mother and child will die. He could have killed them both without so much as laying a hand on them if he knew this."

Jon's blood ran cold as he remembered Dany telling him she wanted to move during labor.

"But we did, we walked all around the room for hours," Jon trailed off.

"It doesn't always work, but it's the best chance."

"Well, maybe he didn't know, we can't be sure that he did that on purpose," Jon said, trying to defend Sam.

"That's not all your Grace," Tyrion said quietly, "he also refused to attend to her when she was showing clear signs of pre-eclampsia."

"I came to Sam while you were both drinking, and he dismissed me when I rattled off her symptoms, saying they were common after childbirth. The only reason I went to Maester Purell was because I knew they weren't common, but if I hadn't had Clara I wouldn't have known any better."

"But, he was drunk," Jon tried to understand.

"It's not over yet Jon. He left the biggest part of the placenta in her womb. We referenced the books he read, and the first thing they emphasize is to double and triple check that the entire afterbirth is removed. If not, the mother will never stop bleeding. It's not something that's hard to check Jon, he had no excuse. And when Maester Purell saw her stitches, he asked me if Sam had been drunk when he put them in. They were too loose and they had barely stopped any bleeding. He had to completely redo them, putting her at higher risk for hemorrhage and infection. There's too much evidence Jon, Sam would never be this careless if he didn't want to be destructive."

"Why didn't he try to hurt the baby then?" Jon asked.

"It wasn't the baby that killed his family," Tyrion answered.

Jon felt like he had been stabbed. How could Sam do this? There was too much evidence, it was too much. He felt the world start to spin, and he placed his hand against the wall.

"I need to think about this. I need to go back to Dany, will you give me time?"

"Yes, but make a decision soon Jon, I don't trust him."

"Tell the guards not to let him come anywhere near our chambers, and I want him away from her food and water and everything that goes in and out of this room until we get to the bottom of this, okay?"

They nodded and headed off to relay the orders, and Jon went back into see his wife and daughter. Cordelia was sound asleep in the crook of her mother's arm, and Dany was nuzzling the tiny tuft of hair on her daughter's head. Her tiny fist was gripping onto Dany's pinky, and the sight brought Jon to tears.

"Why do babies smell so good Jon?" Dany asked, her eyes looking up at him with a childlike wonder.

"Probably to make us love them more than we already do, if that's possible," he said through his tears.

"Jon, what's wrong?" Dany asked him, surprised by his sudden surge of emotion.

He lay in the bed beside her and wrapped his arms around her, trying to remind himself that she was still here. She could have died, but she chose to stay.

"I don't know how you lived Dany. There were so many problems. You were bleeding out, and seizing, and you couldn't breathe, and I was just begging you to stay with me."

"Oh Jon, but I did. I am right here, did you think I'd ever allow anyone to take me away from either of you?"

He picked his head up when Cordelia began to fuss, and Dany rocked her gently and pulled her white blanket more tightly around her little body as she curled up against Dany's chest again.

"I'm going to do something I never ever do, so don't laugh at me Jon Snow," she said as the baby continued to whimper.

He waited, and she began to hum quietly as she found her voice. It was an old, sweet melody, and it reminded Jon of spring. Her voice was delicate, but it soared and hit the higher notes sweetly and quietly. Eventually, she found the words to the lullaby, and both Jon and Cordelia seemed transfixed by her singing, something neither of them had heard before.

Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high

There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

Someday I'll wish upon a star and wakeup where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops oh way above the chimney tops

That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why then oh why can't I?

Cordelia had fallen fast asleep again, and Dany used her free hand to run her fingers through Jon's hair. He traced his hand up and down her arm, and they fell asleep like that, enjoying a peace that Jon knew was temporary.

…

The next morning

After they had woken up, taken care of Cordelia, and eaten, Jon knew it was time to do something he'd been dreading.

He cleared his throat and looked to his wife, "Dany, the maester said that you should start to try walking today, remember? He said it will help your blood flow and you will recover faster."

She nodded reluctantly, and Jon carried Cora over to her crib. He gently helped Dany to sit up, and she clenched her teeth as he swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her hands were already shaking as she wrapped them around Jon's shoulders.

"Okay, now you just have to stand up, you can do this dear," Jon whispered.

She stood up, and even though it hurt, it seemed to be manageable. Then she slowly made her first step. It sent spikes of pain in between her legs, and the stitches pulled no matter how she bent her legs to accommodate. Every muscle in her body ached, and even simple movements required great amounts of concentration. She cried out in such a way that made Jon sorry he'd forced her to stand. Even though she could barely stand it, she made it all the way to the wall. She was lightheaded from the pain, but when Jon helped her turn around, she saw Cordelia sleeping peacefully, and she found the walk back easier than the way there.

Jon knew that she had endured enough, so rather than make her get into the bed; he gently picked her up and lowered her onto the mattress. As she wiped tears from her eyes, she looked to Jon.

"Jon, what did Sansa mean yesterday when she said 'after what happened,' did someone try to harm us?"

Suddenly Jon remembered the most pressing issue he had to deal with. He wiped more of her tears with his thumb and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Dany, I promise I will explain everything, but right now, we have to focus on getting you better. I don't want you to worry about anything but yourself and Cordelia right now, okay?"

She nodded, but Jon felt an anger rage through his veins like a fire. Sam had done this to her.

And he would pay.


	21. The Judge

"Oh please, make it stop, make it stop!" Dany screamed, clutching Jon's shirt.

Sansa, Missandei, and Jon were holding her down on the bed while the Maester removed her stitches.

"Three more your Grace, we're almost there, " the Maester said as he held her legs open, pausing for a moment so that Dany could catch her breath, which was ragged and rapid.

She cried into Jon's shirt and he kept whispering to her that it would be okay, but again, he didn't even know that for sure. They had to work hard to keep her from passing out, and as he looked at her now, her eyes were staying shut longer and longer.

"I'm going to keep going, and it will all be over, okay?"

She nodded meekly, and her screams dissolved into Jon's shoulder.

It had been nearly two weeks since she had waken up, and she was still incredibly weak from the amount of blood she had lost. She could almost walk around the entire hallway before getting tired, but she had to stay in bed for hours after making it that far. She was eating and drinking more, but she was still in incredible amounts of pain which the Maester credited to the birth and the seizure causing severe exhaustion in her muscles. Jon hadn't slept more than a couple hours each night, frantically trying to make sure that Dany and Cordelia had everything that they needed. Cora was a very good baby, and Jon believed it was because she understood how ill her mother was.

Finally, the Maester was finished, and Jon wiped sweat off of Dany's face and held onto her hand, which was still cold to the touch.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to fuck you again," Dany said after a while, completely oblivious to everyone else in the room.

Jon held back a laugh, but Sansa didn't, and Dany actually felt relieved that she had made someone laugh even in her delirium. She felt like this week she had only been causing people stress and fear, and she wished desperately that she could regain her strength and feel like herself again.

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, "I will still love you just as much my Queen."

"You better Jon Snow, I destroyed my body to carry your child," she panted.

"I'm so sorry," Jon said genuinely.

"It's okay, she is worth it, aren't you my sweet baby?" Dany cooed to Cordelia as a handmaiden brought her into the room.

After she had calmed down and the burning pain faded into a dull ache, Sansa and Missandei helped her change into a clean nightgown, and the handmaiden brought Cordelia to Daenerys. She had been crying, but she settled as soon as she was laying against Dany's skin again. Jon, Sansa, and Missandei waited in silence as Dany hummed to the baby. Jon nodded to Sansa, and began to speak.

"Dany, we have to tell you about a couple of urgent things that you missed the night Cordelia was born."

They sat in silence waiting for Daenerys to process what they had told her.

"I can understand that he tried to kill me, but I don't understand why you weren't there Jon. Why did you leave and go down to the pub with him that night?"

Jon's heart stopped, and chills ran up and down his spine.

"Because, he…he told me something that night that you need to know now. We wanted to wait until you got better, but we need to decide what to do now, so that he doesn't try to hurt you again during the trial."

"What do you mean, I don't understand," she questioned.

"The night you gave birth, once you had been cleaned up and had fallen asleep, Sam asked if he could talk to me for a moment. You see, when he was in the Citadel in King's Landing, he discovered that your brother, Rhaegar Targaryen, had annulled his marriage to Elia Martell in order to marry Lyanna Stark."

He sighed, and Dany looked at him with great confusion. She was about to start talking, but Cora began crying and twisting around in Dany's arms. She rocked her gently and hushed her gently.

"I thought that my brother was terrible to Lyanna. They say he raped her and killed her," she whispered.

"That's not what these records imply; they're official marriage documents."

"Why did this overwhelm you so much? If anything, it makes me feel better about my family."

"That's not it Dany, Lyanna and Rhaegar had a son. They were losing the war, and Lyanna died in childbirth, so she gave the baby to Ned, who swore to protect me."

Dany looked at Jon with a look of pure confusion, but suddenly the realization fell upon her face. She gasped, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster.

"You're the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. You were never a bastard," she stated calmly.

Jon didn't answer, but Sansa nodded slowly.

"How many people know this?" She whispered.

"Sam, Bran, Sansa, Missandei, me, and now, you," Jon rattled off.

Pain gripped Dany's head as she tried to understand how all of this could have happened, and she tried to find some way to justify it. She was silent for a long time, and Jon began to grow uncomfortable.

"Well, the Targaryens have always kept the bloodline in the family, but I'd understand if you can't, or don't want to…" she paused, her eyes filling with tears.

"Dany, stop, " Jon interrupted.

She reached out for Missandei, who sat beside her as she rested her head on her shoulder.

"Listen to me, I would never leave you. This doesn't change who I am, or where I've been. I need you, and even though I learned that the hard way last week, I know it now. From this day to the end of my days, we promised each other. I think it's best to keep it a secret, there could be untold consequences if we let it get out."

"You won't be uncomfortable if people still believe you're a bastard?"

"Dany, I get to be married to you. I would deal with anything if it made your life easier, you've given me everything."

She sniffled, and laughed when Cordelia hiccuped loudly.

"You gave me the most beautiful human to exist right there in your arms, and I think we'll make plenty more," he said reaching over so Cora could hold onto his pinky finger.

"Like I told you Jon, I don't think I can ever fuck again, never mind push an entire human out of me," she giggled, wiping away her tears.

Jon laughed too, "well, even if that's the case, the Princess is all we will need, isn't that right Cora?" He cooed at the baby.

Dany kissed him on the lips, and she looked to Sansa, her face turning serious again.

"Have you had him arrested yet?"

"No, but we've ordered some of the Unsullied to watch over his every move. We wanted to wait for you to conduct the trial. He thinks he's outsmarted us, he's not showing a single sign of guilt."

"I want the trial today," Dany growled.

Sansa nodded, and started to stand up from the side of the bed, but Jon put a hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe we should wait, you know, until you're a little stronger Dany. It might be hard to hear everything that's happened all over again in front of so many people, we can certainly wait. He isn't going anywhere, I'll be sure of that myself."

"Jon, I appreciate your concern, but I want it done today. As long as a threat on my life and our daughter's life exists in the same castle that we're living in, I won't feel safe. Please, do this for me," she asked.

"Okay, I'll call the trial for today then. I'll be right back love," he said, shutting the door behind him.

"Sansa, I believe you had promised that you'd tell me who your secret lover was today. I don't remember much from labor, but that I do," Dany winked.

"How are you thinking about this now? You just found out that the man who delivered your baby tried to kill you," Sansa asked incredulously.

"Sansa, he's not the first man to try and kill me, and he certainly won't be the last. I just have to trust that my guards are good enough," she smiled.

"Okay fine, a promise is a promise, it's Maester Purell," Sansa said emotionlessly.

"Seven hells!" Dany exclaimed, "I was not expecting that."

"That's why we haven't told anyone, he's not supposed to have any romantic involvements seeing that he's a Maester, but it's just so nice to have another adult to talk to," she trailed off.

Dany smiled and took Sansa's hand weakly.

"That's a beautiful thing. He's very handsome. He's been so gentle with me these past few days, I trust him. You're a Queen Sansa, you can be with whomever you choose. Don't ever forget that," Dany said, her eyes struggling to stay open.

"I think it's time for you to take a nap," Sansa smiled, taking Cora and placing her in the crib.

"The trial," Dany murmured.

"The trial will take place when you wake up. We should have about three hours before you fall asleep again after that," Sansa said, looking at the schedule that Maester Purell had made to track Dany's sleep.

Sansa slipped out of the door quietly, and was surprised to see Maester Purell standing outside of the door.

"I was coming to check on her, but if she's asleep I can do the exam later," he said, being cautiously quiet.

Sansa took his hand, and they walked down the stairs together.

"Do you want to help me set up Sam's trial? She's probably going to have him executed tonight," Sansa said.

"It would be my pleasure," the Maester Purell replied, causing Sansa to blush when he gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

Dany managed to lift herself out of the wheelchair and into her seat next to Sansa, grimacing as she sat down on the wooden chair. She sat up and looked out to the crowd of people that had already filled up the room. Some looked angry, and others looked confused. She still felt like she was somewhere in the middle of those feelings.

"Dany, we don't have to do it, once you're more comfortable it might be easier," Jon begged.

"No, we'll do it today, but I need you to get me something soft to sit on."

"Okay," he ran off in search of a servant to order around.

The room was noisy when everyone entered, but it fell quiet as soon as Dany cleared her throat. Jon lifted her up to put the cushion under her, and she glared at Sam in the doorway as Jon helped her situate herself.

"Bring him in," she said firmly, finding the Queen in herself once again.

Sam arrived in chains, accompanied by three of the Unsullied. He looked up to Dany, but she found it impossible to look him straight in the eyes. Gilly stood in the corner with little Sam, showing no emotion on her face.

"Samwell Tarly, we can make this a very long, drawn out trial, or we can make it very quick. I have a feeling it will end the same way regardless."

"I don't know what you're talking about, what crime am I accused of? Eclampsia, your Grace, is an unavoidable complication of pregnancy, there's no way to stop it once it's started. Quite frankly, it's a miracle you're still alive. You're very lucky."

"I'm very lucky, am I? Queen Sansa, and Maester Purell, please join me."

As the other Maester came to stand by Daenerys, the color in Sam's face drained.

"Explain to everyone here what happened the night you came in to attend to me Maester. And please, spare them no details," Dany requested.

It took nearly an hour for Sansa and the Maester to explain the mounting evidence against Sam, both through what Sansa had witnessed and the medical explanations that the Maester had. Grown men cringed in the room as he explained certain details that Sam had neglected, but Daenerys found pleasure in watching Sam's face turn bright red from embarrassment. Once they were finished, Daenerys turned back to Sam.

"Is there anything that you would like to say to defend yourself?"

He was silent for a moment, and then he broke out into a rampage.

"You killed my family! I knew from the day you told me that you were a cold-blooded killer who would slaughter anyone who wouldn't follow you blindly, and I couldn't let you do that to all of Westeros. I took a risk to save this world, your Grace, and I don't regret it."

Some people in the audience gasped, and Dany glanced over at Jon, who looked mortified. Dany was eerily calm, and she turned back towards Sam.

"If you disagreed with me for what I did, you should have had the courage speak out against it, or take time to understand why I did what I did. I understand you were angry, and upset, but that does not give you the right to harm your Queen. The way you attempted murder was, in every meaning of the word, cowardly. You hid behind medical terms and conditions that no one would question you about. You tried to kill me slowly with my own body. You took one of the most private and intimate moments of my life, the birth of my daughter, and you cursed it with malice. I will be honest with everyone here, I feel violated, and I feel betrayed. You essentially attempted to frame my baby for my death, think about how ludicrous that sounds! You may have taken a risk, but I'm sorry to say it was for nothing. Your family disobeyed my direct orders, and they left me with no choice, no matter how many chances I had given them. You must think that because I made a decision to not spare them I had become the Mad Queen. Do you see what happens when I spare people who aren't loyal to me? It nearly got me killed."

"Your Grace," Sam interrupted, but Dany cut him off.

"Don't you dare interrupt me, I'm not finished. Not only did you manipulate my body, you manipulated your best friend into not caring what happened to me. You tried to kick him out while the baby was being born so that he would miss all the signs of your neglect. Not only did you betray me, you betrayed Jon Snow, your King."

She paused for a moment, and Jon stared at the ground.

"Does anyone else have anything to say?" Dany asked stoically.

The room was silent, and Dany cleared her throat.

"Now, unfortunately, I'm not the Queen in the North, so Sansa, would you like to serve the sentence?"

Sansa nodded and stood up, "Samwell Tarly, we find you guilty of attempted regicide and treason. You are sentenced to die."

Daenerys was laying in bed shivering when Jon came in.

"Is it done?" She asked quietly.

"No, Sansa wanted you to know how you'd like it done, and whether you'd like to attend. You look freezing my love, let me get you more blankets."

"It's too cold, I'll probably die if I go outside," she murmured.

"Dany, don't joke about that."

"It wasn't a joke. Use Drogon, I think he understands what happened."

"Ay, Rhaegal and Drogon were warning me that night, I wouldn't have gone up if I hadn't heard Rhaegal."

Dany rolled over in bed and smiled at Jon.

"My children look out for me Jon," she whispered.

As he was about to leave the room, she called out to him once more, her eyes half opened.

"Jon, I know this is your best friend, are you okay?" She mumbled.

"Dany, don't worry about me. He tried to kill you, and he very nearly succeeded. Missandei is coming up to stay with you until I get back, so go to sleep love, you need to rest if you're going to get better."

He had been caressing her back, but she had already fallen asleep, Cora laying soundly in the crook of her arm. He left quietly, and passed Missandei on the way out.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way Jon," Missandei apologized.

"I'm sorry that I missed these signs, and that I almost got my wife killed. This needs to be done," he whispered.

She nodded, and walked into Dany's room quietly. When she sat down in the chair by the bed, Cora started to whimper, and Dany moved ever so slightly.

"Shh, don't you worry about it, I've got her," Missandei soothed, and Dany nodded weakly.

Missandei took the baby into her arms and laid her on her lap. She watched her mouth twitch into a little smile, and laughed as her tiny arms moved up and down frantically. They were both startled when they heard Drogon roar ferociously, and Missandei shuddered.

Sam's screams could be heard throughout the halls, and Missandei could just make out the light of the fire from Drogon's breath. She closed her eyes, and within a minute, Sam's screams had faded into nothing. It was silent. Cora fell asleep in Missandei's arms, and she waited quietly for Jon to return. The smell of ash wafted through the windows.


	22. Move Along

"Your grace," Varys gasped as Daenerys walked into the council meeting.

"Hello Varys," she said, walking over to stand beside him.

"I'm glad to see you here, and I'm glad you brought a guest! Would you like to sit?" Tyrion asked, pulling out a chair for her.

She slid into the chair, relieved that it didn't send spikes of pain between her legs like it had the last time. She laid Cora's head against her shoulder and she continued sleeping soundly. She was wearing a soft brown dress that Sansa had made for her, as the idea of wearing any type of corset or constricting undergarment caused her to shiver. She nodded to Varys, and he looked at her with slight confusion.

"We weren't expecting you to join the regular council meetings until we returned to Dragonstone in a couple of months, was there something urgent you'd like to tell us? You can always have Jon relay the message, we hate to make you come all the way down here in your condition."

"In my condition? I'm not dying. And no, there's nothing urgent I needed to tell you about, I just came to a council meeting, as a Queen should. I remember we were talking about the funding for the repair of King's Landing, and I had an idea that would distribute the funds more evenly."

"Oh, your Grace, we decided that two weeks ago. Jon proposed an idea, and we went with it. Would you like us to go over it with you, I can pull the records out," Varys said, starting to flip through his collection of documents.

"Jon decided, without consulting me? Why didn't anyone let me know that you'd fixed it?" Dany said, clearly frustrated.

"Well, that night, you had fallen asleep early, and Jon didn't want to wake you. You'd had a rough day, and we didn't want to overwhelm you."

Dany felt bubbles of anger rising in her throat, but she took a deep breath, and turned to Tyrion.

"Okay, well what's on the docket today then?"

"Oh, your Grace, it's very complicated work. There's a Lord in Dorne who doesn't agree to the new policy we've adopted about taxing imports, and he's threatening to pull his goods from trade if we continue with the plan. Then there's the tax in the first place, and there's been an unexpected number of hog attacks in Casterly Rock."

Dany's head was spinning, but the last bit caused her to interrupt Tyrion.

"How in seven hells did wild hogs get to Casterly Rock? And why are they angry?"

"It was another trade disaster, we were trying to relocate some wildlife to give more food supply to the villagers. You've missed a lot your Grace, but we've got it under control."

"Really, because it doesn't sound like you do. Give me the papers outlining these issues, I'll look at them," Dany sighed.

Obeying their Queen, they handed her the papers, and she slowly stood up, making sure not to disturb Cordelia.

"I know that you were trying to give me time to heal, and I appreciate that, but please don't tiptoe around me like a child ever again. I gave birth to a baby, but my brain didn't fall out. Understood?"

"Yes your Grace," they said timidly, and Dany got up to go back to her chambers.

…

Cordelia was squirming around on the bed while Daenerys tried to change her into warmer clothes. Sansa poked her head through the door, and Dany gave her an exasperated look.

"Do you mind if we come in? I think Clara wants to meet her cousin," Sansa asked, and Dany saw Clara peaking out from behind Sansa's legs.

"Of course, I was just getting ready to feed her once more before bed, after that she should be pretty quiet, and hopefully she'll fall asleep and Miss Clara can hold her," Dany winked.

Sansa ushered Clara in and shut the door behind her. She picked Clara up and carried her to the edge of the bed, where Dany was swaddling Cora in a final layer of blankets. Cora blinked up lazily at Dany and began to lick her lips and whimper quietly.

"I know, you're hungry, give me one second," she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling down her nightgown and leading the baby's head to her breast.

"They can be obnoxious, can't they?" Sansa grinned.

"She's so impatient! If I don't pick her up the minute she wakes up she just cries. And sometimes in the middle of the night, when Jon gets up to get her, she doesn't want him to hold her, so she'll just scream until he gives her to me," Dany vented.

"Clara wouldn't let anyone but me hold her without throwing a fit for the first six months. It was so frustrating, I just wanted to sleep," Sansa sympathized.

Sansa sat on the edge of the side beside Dany and pulled Clara into her lap.

"Look, this is Cordelia, she's your new cousin," Sansa explained.

Clara looked at the baby curiously, and placed a very gentle finger on Cora's cheek.

"Where?" Clara asked.

Dany looked at her in confusion, but Sansa clarified, "she wants to know where she's from."

"Oh," Dany said, "Clara, do you remember when my belly was really big? And you would put your hand on it to feel it move? Cordelia was inside of there just a month ago," Dany said slowly.

Clara thought about it and scrunched her face up, looking up to Sansa for verification.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You were in my belly not that long ago too," Sansa chided, and Clara giggled, poking Sansa's stomach.

"Yes, you were right in there. All cozy and warm and happy," Sansa reflected.

Dany felt herself losing balance as she tried to stay sitting, this was the longest she had been up since the baby was born. Sansa placed a pillow behind her and looked at her with concern.

"Do you want to lay back down?" She asked.

Dany nodded, and Sansa put Clara on the floor for a minute while she helped Dany to lay back and keep Cora latched. Dany exhaled, and Sansa smiled.

"It's alright Daenerys, you're getting better. Two weeks ago you probably would have passed out if you'd been up for that long. Small steps, right?"

Dany nodded, and wiped a few tears from her eyes, "it's just frustrating that I can't do anything still. I'd give anything to be out of this bed and this room for more than a few hours each day. I went to a council meeting today, and they acted like I'd forgotten how to rule. It was terrible."

"I know, but they're just worried about you. You'll get better and everything will go back to normal. Dany, I wish you could have seen how much blood you lost. I didn't know someone could survive after something like that. I think if you had seen it you'd be much prouder of yourself right now, and you'd certainly cut yourself some slack."

Dany cringed, but she knew that Sansa was right. She was lucky to be alive regardless of the state that she was in. Cora pulled away from Dany's breast, and Dany sat the baby up in her lap to burp her. She smiled and cooed at the tiny baby as she patted her back. Cordelia looked into Dany's eyes, and Dany noted that tiny shades of lavender were beginning to appear in her pupils. She caught her spit-up just in time with a piece of cloth, and both Sansa and Dany laughed when Cora's whole body shuddered with a sneeze. She gave a tiny grunt in frustration, and already she was leaning forward, looking for Dany's chest so that she could fall asleep against it.

"Oh baby, if only you knew," Dany cooed to her as she whimpered quietly.

Sansa and Clara watched as Dany lulled the baby to sleep, and Dany patted next to her for Clara to sit. Sansa placed her carefully in between them, and Dany lowered Cora into her arms.

"Okay, you have to be very careful with her head because she's not strong enough to hold it up on her own, okay?" Sansa said, placing a hand under Cora's head just in-case.

Dany laughed: Clara looked terrified, and she stayed perfectly still so as not to upset the baby.

"She is cute," Clara said matter-of-factly, and Dany stifled another laugh.

"Clara, you used to look just like this. You would hiccup and sneeze and do all of the other things that cousin Cordelia is doing now," Sansa taught her.

"I love you," Clara said to the baby, and completely unprompted, she placed a tiny kiss on Cora's cheek.

She sat up quickly, her red curls bouncing as she looked to Dany for approval.

"That was very nice Clara. Cordelia loves you too, she just can't talk yet. When she gets older, I'm sure she will love to play with you in the snow."

Dany's heart ached at the words, she knew that as soon as she regained enough strength they would be moving to Dragonstone. Sansa seemed to know too, and she smiled at Dany sadly.

"Daenerys, I need to tell you something," Sansa said, breaking the bitter-sweet moment.

"Don't tell me that a kitchen maid came in here and tried to kill me too," she warned.

"No, no, I think that's all over for now. What I wanted to say, was, I'm getting married."

Dany blinked, and looked to Sansa, "Now Sansa, sometimes when I'm tired like this, my brain, it has trouble understanding what people are saying. Did you say that you were, getting married, to Maester Purell?"

"Precisely, but I don't call him Maester Purell, his name is Winston. Look, I've spent a month thinking about it. In fact, it was that night that you saw us when he asked. That's why I was so nervous. He was patient, and he waited until I knew my answer for sure. And I know."

"Well, I suppose I can't argue with that. Congratulations Sansa, that is a wonderful thing to hear. I guess you'll be changing the laws with Maesters and marriage in the North. I'll probably follow suit for the six kingdoms, if my noble councilmen haven't done it already," she said sarcastically.

"Do you think that I'm ready? How did you know you were ready?"

"Okay, stop there. These are two completely different situations. I knew I was ready because I didn't have a choice, I was pregnant. It worked out okay, I guess, oh God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, what? Why would you think that? That's not even what I'm asking you, I mean, that you were ready to, to," she made a forward motion with her hands.

Dany mouthed the word "fuck," and Sansa blushed, but eventually nodded.

"I don't want to go into a flashback in the middle of it, but when we marry, won't he expect…"

"Stop. If he's a decent man, he won't expect a goddamned thing from you. I think Maester Purell is a lovely Maester, and I also think he would be a great husband. Now, I didn't know I was ready to move to that step, I just felt it. Don't rush it, it will do you a lot more good to go too slowly than to go too quickly and regret it."

There was a quiet knock on the door, and Jon peaked in. Dany eyed Sansa with the question, _did you tell him? _She shook her head firmly before turning to greet Jon.

"Uncle Jon!" Clara yelled, startling Cordelia until she looked at Dany with scared eyes and began to wail.

Sansa apologized and scolded Clara as she reached out for Jon.

"Clara, we have to be quiet when the baby is sleeping. Her little ears are very sensitive, and it scares her when you yell like that," Jon explained.

"I sorry," Clara whispered, looking to Cordelia, who was watching Jon intently as he came closer. Her tiny fists were balled tightly around the hem of Dany's nightgown as she tried to calm her down.

"Okay, I think family visit hours are over, say bye Clara, quietly," Sansa said, grabbing her daughter's hand and leading her towards the door.

"Bye bye!" She sang, and Sansa shut the door quietly behind her.

"I was just talking to Gilly, I think she's feeling better, I've given her generous rations for the year, and Sansa's allowing her to stay here at Winterfell. It's such a terrible situation, I didn't really know what to say."

Dany just peered at him, and he grew nervous.

"How are you my love?" Jon asked, stroking her cheek as he sat on the bed beside her.

"I've been better Jon," she said coldly.

"Dany, we said we wouldn't do this, what's wrong?"

She huffed in frustration, and looked to him with hurt eyes.

"Jon, why did you make the funding decision for King's Landing without telling me? The kingdom's in ruin, and no one has told me anything that's happened. I felt like an idiot today!" She whispered angrily.

"In ruin?"

"Yeah, Tyrion said there's been wild hog attacks in Casterly Rock," she almost cried.

Jon chuckled, and Dany hit his shoulder when Cora began to stir.

"Dany, if that's the biggest problem, I think we're alright. Why, oh darling, don't cry. You needed this time off, you deserved it. Once you're better, it will all go back to normal."

"Will it? Jon, I love Cordelia more than anything in the world, but I feel like everyone, you included, just expects me to be with her all day long, and to not take up any other responsibilities. I conquered the Seven Kingdoms, I helped to defeat an army of the dead, and now my sole responsibility is keeping this tiny human happy. I enjoy doing it, but sometimes I feel like it's not enough. It's so frustrating sometimes. I chose to be Queen, but I haven't even ruled," she cried.

"Dany, my love. It's okay, it's all okay. First of all, you are amazing, and beautiful, and you created life. That is an accomplishment, even if it's different from what you've done in the past. Cordelia needs you in ways that I can't fulfill, that no one can fulfill. She was inside of you for nine months, you're the only thing that's familiar in this cold, scary new world. That has to feel amazing, she's completely in love with you. Have you seen the way she looks into your eyes when you sing to her? Gods, I could cry just thinking about it. In the middle of the night, she doesn't cry just to be fed or changed. She cries for you. You're her home."

Dany felt her heart skip a beat, and she looked down at her daughter with guilt. Of course she was worth it all, but no one had warned her about how hard being a mother truly was.

"And Dany, if I could grow tits to feed her, I would, but I can't, so that's on you for a while longer. What can I do to help you?"

"Could you just take her for, an hour everyday? Then, I could take a walk alone, or drink a glass of wine, and just have time to myself. I think it would help."

"Of course, I'm sorry that I hadn't even offered earlier. And Dany, we didn't cut you off from meetings because we expect that you can't handle it with a new baby, we haven't bothered you because for a while, no one though that you would even live. We wanted you to put all of your energy towards surviving. If I had been run over by a horse, or trampled by a pack of wild hogs, I'm sure you would have left me out of meetings for a while too."

Dany had to giggle at that, and Jon wrapped her and Cordelia into his arms.

"I love you Jon, can you trust me when I say that I'm ready to start knowing what's going on and making the decisions."

"I love you too. Of course, you do what you can handle, I'll follow your lead."

She kissed him passionately, and he closed his eyes, remembering what it had felt like to be loved by his wife. His hands made it to her hips, and she sighed against his mouth before pushing him away.

"Not yet, I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You never have to be sorry, I know," he said gently.

He held Cordelia for a moment, and Dany took the opportunity to show him a stack of papers.

"What's all this," he said, struggling to balance the baby and the papers in his hands.

"Well, Tyrion gave me a list of problems, and I solved them. Cordelia napped longer than usual today, so I had time."

He studied it for a while, and looked up at her in awe.

"Dany, these numbers, they work. We've been moving money around for days, and we couldn't figure out how to fix it."

"Well, fresh eyes I guess. You know I'm good at math," she said with the mischievous twinkle in her eye that Jon hadn't seen since before Cora was born.

He kissed Cordelia and lowered her into her crib before crawling into bed next to his wife.

"You are a genius," he whispered in her ear.

"Mmm, well I'll remember that you owe me."

"I owe you a lot my dear."

"That you do, that you do," she said slowly as she drifted to sleep.


End file.
